


Where the Buffalo Roam

by NotTasha



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Planet, Animals, Gen, Plants, Team, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4406711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTasha/pseuds/NotTasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team goes in search of an Ancient Outpost on a planet with a strange bison-like animal.  They find two buildings -- a greenhouse and another mysterious place.  Things go badly at both locations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Buffalo Roam

**Author's Note:**

> SEASON: Sometime during the 5th Season, before "The Shrine"  
> DISCLAIMERS: The characters, setting, etc, all belong to Sony, MGM, Gecko, the Sci-Fi Channel... not me. I own nothing.  
> DATE: Originally posted September 11, 2007

PART 1: HOME ON THE RANGE  
They stepped through the event horizon, alert for trouble. Sheppard scanned the immediate area as Ronon and Teyla twisted about, looking for where danger might be lurking.

The search ended rather quickly.

McKay stood beside Sheppard, slowly letting his P90 drop. “Huh,” the scientist said softly as the Gate closed behind them.

Ronon sucked his teeth a moment, and also let his weapon fall to his side. “Yeah,” he grunted.

Teyla tilted her head toward Sheppard who shrugged. 

“So…” he said as he examined their surroundings. “Guess we don’t have to worry too much about an ambush.”

They were in scrub land – cliffs in distance, crumbly earth beneath their feet. Sour-looking grass dotted ground that had been carved long ago by a river. Now, only a slip of a stream cut through the area. It was a bleak and bare place.

The sky was a milky color that diffused the sunlight, making them squint. The air held an unpleasant chill. John sighed, pulling at the zipper of his jacket. “Doesn’t look like there’s anything here to see.”

Rodney sighed as he clipped his P90 to his vest and brought out his tablet. He worked the device as he spoke, “There’s supposed to be some sort of outpost here. The database didn’t offer much. Didn’t you say people lived here?” he glanced to Teyla.

“Yes,” she responded. “The Madaket vacated the planet a few years ago. They lived near this gate.”

“If you can call it living,” McKay muttered as he prodded his computer. “I mean, what the hell could you do here? There’s nothing.”

“They were ranchers,” Teyla responded. “They raised cattle.”

“Cows?” Sheppard inquired.

Teyla furrowed her brow, trying to come up with an animal Sheppard and McKay would understand. She looked toward Ronon. “Bigger,” she tried.

“Buffalo,” Dex threw in.

“Asian, African or North American?” McKay inquired as he kept his attention on the computer.

Ronon grimaced, obviously not ready for an inquisition. “Bill,” he ground out.

“What?” McKay lifted his gaze to give Ronon an incredulous look.

Ronon looked toward Teyla for help, but she just smiled at him.

“What are you talking about?” McKay persisted, and Sheppard pretended to examine the horizon. “They’re billed? Like some sort of duckbilled plati-buffi-pus?”

“That’s seriously messed up,” John commented with a smirk.

“And they were bigger than cows?” McKay went on. “What sort of freaks were these?”

Sheppard glanced at Ronon, enjoying the irritation that seemed to grow on the big man with each question from McKay.

With a groan, Ronon clarified, “Lt. Cisco has a picture of one on her wall. A Buffalo Bill.”

“Hickok?” McKay went on, his interjection sounding a little like a hiccup.

When Ronon growled, Sheppard decided to help. It would do none of them any good if any of them ended up in the infirmary. “Football,” he informed, then added, “American football. None of that cheesy Soccer football.”

“I know!” McKay shot back. “Just because I’m…” He thought better of completing the sentence and went back to the computer, poking at it petulantly. “I happen to remember your favorite pastime outside of golf and flirting with every woman you find.”

“Speaking of which…” Sheppard raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing in Lt. Cisco’s room, Ronon?”

Ronon’s foul mood seemed to change at that question and he grinned toothily at Sheppard. “She was showing me her Bills memorabilia.”

The colonel chuckled. Teyla rolled her eyes.

Oblivious, McKay went on, “And if they want to be correct, they should call that mascot a bison. There are no native buffalos in the Americas. The term ‘buffalo’ technically refers to either African, or Asian Water Buffalo. Calling the American Bison a ‘buffalo’ is just laziness.”

With a look of irritation, Sheppard cuffed the man. Rodney let out a yelp of surprise, and stumbled to get out of reach. Ronon grinned as McKay ducked again, probably expecting the same from him. “I’m just sayin’,” McKay muttered, scrubbing at his head. “It’s not a buffalo.”

Sheppard stepped out of the way, careful of what must have been a pile of dried manure from the creature in question. “Must have been a damn big buffalo,” Sheppard stated.

“They were known to be of impressive size,” Teyla confirmed.

“And delicious,” Ronon added.

Sheppard frowned at the cow pie, not happy about having to cross a mined field. “Yeah, well, apparently some of them are still around. Step carefully.” He lifted his head and asked, “Which way do we go?”

For a moment they were quiet as he surveyed the land with Ronon and Teyla. McKay’s head was bowed over his computer as he poked it, frowning.

Finally, Ronon declared, “There’s a building over there.” He pointed.

Sheppard squinted where Ronon had indicated. Yes, there was a shape alongside the narrow river. He nodded. “Figure we could start off with that.”

“Fine,” McKay muttered. “Let’s go, because I’m not coming up with anything here.” He secured the computer to his pack and they started moving toward the little building.

As they moved, they passed the remains of a building, little more than a foundation left in the dirt. Scrubby half-dead grass dotted the land, separated by plops of dried dung.

The bleakness of the place left an empty feeling in Sheppard’s chest. He angled the group closer to the little river so that it might offer them change of scenery, but the river wended its way dully, hardly making a sound. It was not a pleasant place.

Sheppard watched the water for a while as they moved upstream, and he frowned. “So, what happened to the ranchers?” he asked.

“The Madaket were well known for the quality of the meat they raised,” Teyla explained. “They were quite adept at raising squams.” She tipped her head toward Rodney and clarified, “Bison.”

“I’ve had a few steaks over the years,” Ronon said, almost a boast. “Mostly just when I had some money. Once I even got the really good stuff – the shimmo quality.” He frowned as he gazed out at the ruined land again. “Too bad you can’t get it anymore.”

“What happened to them?” Sheppard asked again as he kept the group moving.

Teyla explained, “The Madaket became rich and increased the herds of squams until there were too many to be supported.”

“Overgrazing,” McKay muttered, kicking at the spoiled earth, and groaned as he knocked into an old clod of manure. It went to dust.

“I believe they tried several different chemical treatments to bring back the ‘good grass’,” Teyla continued. “But it had the opposite effect. The grass died. The land has not yet recovered.”

“What?” McKay spoke up. “So, it wasn’t their fault for putting too many animals on the land? It has to be the fault of science? And, just because they used a ‘chemical’ treatment, it’s inherently bad? I don’t understand why people say that all the time.” He moved his hands in irritation as he walked. “For the most part, chemicals make our lives so much better. Think of where we’d be without them! Now, I do admit that…”

Teyla interrupted, “And with the lack of good food, the squams grew lean, and then a disease ran through the herds.”

“So it wasn’t the Wraith or the Replicators that sent people packing?” Sheppard asked.

Teyla shook her head. “The Madaket left on their own accord. Their livelihood devastated, they had no choice.” She glanced around saying, “And apparently they took everything with them.”

“Well, there’s still a building up there,” Sheppard said, nodding to their destination.

“Two buildings,” Ronon said. “There’s another behind it.”

“Okay, two buildings,” Sheppard allowed. “Maybe one of them is the outpost we were looking for.”

Teyla nodded as she kept her eyes ahead. “The buildings do not appear to be of Ancient design.” She glanced to McKay.

Rodney poked at the data tablet, frowning when it blatted at him. “No power signature,” he muttered. “No life signs either. You’re probably right. They look pretty rustic. I don’t think this is what we’re looking for.” With a sigh, he returned the tablet to his pack.

Sheppard shrugged. “Well, there’s nothing else in sight, so we might as well check them out.”

“Seems like a long walk,” McKay grumbled.

“Buck up,” Sheppard responded. “Your feet work, don’t they?”

“Not as well as his mouth,” Ronon added.

McKay grumbled, and they kept their pace toward the buildings, and the lake that was revealed just beyond.

As they drew closer, the buildings came into focus. “The closer one must be a powerhouse or a mill or something,” Rodney pointed out. “It’s situated to make use of the river.”

“And that would be a greenhouse,” Teyla stated, indicating the next building. “Where do you want to start?”

“Does this have to take all day?” McKay asked. “I have things to do and I’d rather be investigating an outpost,” he whined.

“If you find the outpost, we’ll check it out,” John responded. “You found it yet?”

Rodney gave him a disgusted look and dropped his head. “Not yet,” he muttered.

“Fine, so let’s see what we have here,” John returned.

“Okay, fine. Just… keep me away from the plants,” Rodney countered. “I have this serious aversion to greenhouses ever since…”

“Gotcha,” Sheppard returned.

“And there’s always the possibility that I’ll have some sort of allergic reaction to pollen and…every plant I’ve ever owned has died. I water them, I fertilize them, I try to talk to them, but what can you say to a plant? A cat will at least respond to you. I just don’t have the knack to…” McKay stopped suddenly and looked up at the others. “I have issues,” he admitted.

“I know,” Sheppard stated as he turned to Teyla and Ronon. “I guess that means you two get the death house of plants. Mr. Green Thumb and I will check out the mill.”

So they separated, each group moving toward their selected buildings.  
PART 2: GLASS HOUSES  
The second building had glass windows that covered most of the structure -- a greenhouse, set beside the lake to take advantage of the water.

Ronon frowned as they reached it, noting a change in the manure that dotted the ground. “Fresh,” he stated as he carefully stepped over it.

Teyla nodded. “So it would appear,” she commented. “Since the squams roamed wild, it must not have been worth the trouble to collect all of the remaining animals and take them along when the Madaket departed.”

Ronon smiled. “So, I might still have a chance to get a steak or two,” he stated as he kicked at a bit of grass. “Would make this mission worthwhile.”

“True,” Teyla admitted. “Otherwise we’d have little to show for our time.” Standing in front of Woolsey and making excuses as to why nothing was found – well, that was just uncomfortable for everyone. “Perhaps we can find something within the greenhouse,” she said hopefully.

“Doubt it,” Ronon responded sourly. “Gotta say, I don’t like plants any more than McKay.”

Smiling softly, Teyla asked, “And what have plants ever done to you?”

“Just don’t care for them,” Ronon answered tersely.

“Broccoli in particular,” Teyla said, a playful lilt to her voice. “I have seen how you regard it in the mess hall.”

“It’s no good,” Ronon replied. “Don’t know why anyone bothers with it.”

“There are some who enjoy it,” Teyla continued, and they were silent for a moment as they turned to the building. "You must admit, it’s impressive that the windows have remained intact.”

“No kids around to smash them out,” Ronon responded. “I know I would have.”

“I have no doubts,” Teyla responded.

Ronon cocked his head at her. “And you never did anything ‘bad’ when you were a kid?”

Teyla smiled. “I was known to be rather… wild in my childhood.”

“I can see it.” They slowly made their way around the greenhouse, searching for an easy entrance. “I was the terror of my town," Ronon told her. "Old ladies used to shake their fists at me when I walked past. Used to steal fruit from the vendors. Teased the girls.” He paused, and glanced at her and added, “But only the pretty girls.”

Teyla shook her head and told him, “And I used to tease the boys, but only the particularly troublesome and unpleasant boys because they deserved it the most.” She touched the side of the building. “It’s very green inside. Something is still growing.”

“We’re not the only ones to notice.” Ronon stepped carefully to avoid another fresh pile of manure. “Figure the squams have been standing around wanting whatever’s in there. Too dumb to figure out they can just bash down the windows."

“There is little out here for them,” Teyla commented, gesturing toward the dry land. “I suppose this was like a dream to them. It is somewhat sad, don’t you agree?”

“Sad for who?” Ronon responded. “I’m sure the plants are happy.” He stopped when they reached a door. “Figure we should check it out?”

Teyla nodded, and he tried the handle.

The door creaked noisily and they were instantly hit by a wave of hot, humid air, welcome after the cool temperatures around them. The door didn’t fully open. Ronon had to put his shoulder into it to force it all the way.

Quickly, they stepped within and drew the door shut behind them to seal in the warmth.

An earthy odor surrounded them. The space was completely overgrown. Long tables ran the length of the room, but the furniture could hardly be seen under the green growth. Vines twisted their way skyward, threading up the building supports, twining around the legs of tables, knotting around every structure in the room, heaping up the tables and clotting the floor in green, green, green.

There was no place to step. The greenery covered everything in a living, uneven mantle. It had hardly allowed them entrance, and now that they were inside the greenhouse, there was nowhere they could go. So they stood, motionless, staring into the twisted pile of vines.

Somewhere beneath it all, they could hear the gentle trickle of water running through the building, feeding the growth.

“So,” Ronon said, shuffling uncomfortably on the vines. “See anything?”

Teyla sighed, and then said, thoughtfully, “It is unusual that Madaket chose these plants. I don’t think they are native to this planet. They do not seem familiar.”

Ronon shrugged. “Probably brought them in because the regular grass was dying. Had to try something new.” He grasped one of the vines that had climbed the wall beside him. “Seems to be pretty strong stuff.” He gave it a yank. It snapped about halfway up the high wall, and he pulled it away. “Well, not so strong,” he said and grinned at Teyla.

She shook her head. “It is impossible to find anything here. Let’s return to the others. Perhaps there is something to see in the other building.”

“Yeah,” Ronon agreed, swiping at his forehead. “It’s getting hot in here. Stinks, too. I don’t like it,” Ronon told her.

Teyla tried to find the doorknob, but could hardly see it. Reaching into the green growth, she felt her way through the mess to the handle as Ronon kicked at the vines, trying to clear the path for the door to open.

The plants seemed to close on her wrist. She pulled her arm back and let out a quick breath as the vine tightened. She yanked and it held tight, restraining her.

There was a sudden shuffle, and Ronon let out a shout.

“Ronon!” Teyla shouted as his legs were pulled out from under him and he went down into a sea of green.  
88888888888888888888888888888888888  
“Damn,” Sheppard had said as they drew close to the building.

“What?” McKay returned, looking alert, and reaching for his weapon.

“Dam,” Sheppard repeated, pointing. “It’s a dam.” Next to the building was a manmade barrier that held back the lake, allowing only the thin line of the river to flow over it.

Rodney narrowed his eyes then glared at Sheppard. “Oh, har har har. That was funny,” he said sarcastically.

“I thought so,” Sheppard said with a smile.

Rodney regarded the structure and said, "I think it's just for creating a lake. Not for hydroelectric power or anything. I wonder why they wanted a lake."

"To increase property values?" Sheppard tried. He paused and held out his hands as if to measure the land. "Yeah, I could use a bit of lakefront property. Put up a dock. Have a couple of jet skis, a fishing boat, maybe a little Sunfish for sailing."

"What about an Amphicar or a Gibbs Aquada?" Rodney asked as he kept up.

Sheppard made a face. "You're talking in a funny language, Rodney. What is that? French?"

"Amphibious cars!" McKay rejoined. "You know, cars that can drive right into the water..." he gestured, as if driving his hand into the lakewater. "... and they become boats. They just putter around on water."

"Totally impractical," Sheppard grumbled.

"No," McKay countered. "Totally practical. It's a car... and a boat. It would be perfect."

"I hear that Amphicars weren't very good cars... or boats."

"Well, yeah. Still, it would be kinda cool to have one."

To that, Sheppard had to nod. "Yeah, it would," he agreed. And they kept moving.

They reached the building and Sheppard peered in the window at the first door, wiping at the grime with his sleeve. Within, he could see pipes, tubes and gauges of some sort. “What do you think?” he asked over his shoulder.

McKay shoved his way in and took a moment to check it out. “Huh,” he said, rubbing his hand at the dirt. “Can’t see much. We should…you know…check it out,” and he indicated the door handle.

Sheppard tried it. The knob didn’t move.

“It’s not opening?” McKay grumbled.

“Yeah, Señor Obvious. I think it’s locked,” Sheppard responded.

“So… do we break out a window?” McKay asked.

“Looks like there’s daylight coming in below. Might be another door. Let’s keep moving.”

And so they circled around, and came down a slope, traveling down a level to reach the end of the building.

“Hey look,” Rodney called, happily. “The door’s open down here. Saved us from having to break anything. Lucky, huh?”

“Yeah, we get all the luck,” Sheppard replied as they approached the opening. Double doors were cracked open wide enough for a man to move through.

He could look up and see the light from the upper level windows. The lower room was about 8 feet high and opened to the room above. He surveyed the area, finding nothing of note. The surfaces seemed rather featureless.

He entered tentatively, with Rodney right behind him, and they moved into the small structure, letting their eyes adjust to the dimness.

“I don’t think this was a mill,” Sheppard said thoughtfully, “or a power house.”

“Looks that way,” Rodney said with a sigh. “What was this used for? It looks like we’re in some sort of bin or holding area.” He snapped his fingers. “If it’s a mill, maybe this is where they held the grain to be processed.” He slung his pack from his back to rifle through the pockets.

“I don’t know,” Sheppard replied as he looked about. “Teyla didn’t mention that they grew grain here.”

“Maybe she didn’t think it was important,” Rodney said, not sounding convinced. “Could have been feed for the animals or something.” He pulled out a scanner and checked the area. “There's nothing here,” he grumbled. “We should hurry and check upstairs so we get looking for the Ancient outpost, don’t you think?”

Sheppard raised an eyebrow at him. "In a hurry?"

"You should be the one to talk," McKay grumbled. "You're usually the one ready to charge into anything. I just don't want to get stuck on this planet for any length of time. What could possibly be of interest here? It's outside my scope, you know?"

"I thought everything was in your scope," Sheppard told him as he continued to walk around the strange lower room.

To that, McKay just shrugged and said, "More or less."

With a sigh, Sheppard looked up. Rodney was right. If they were to find anything here, they'd need to go up. He'd need a boost from McKay to access the upper space. He hoped for a better option, and then grinned when he spotted something in the shadows. “Ladder,” he declared triumphantly. Steps were built into the far wall – narrow and almost hidden in the corner.

“Great,” McKay responded. “Climb on up and see if you find anything.”

"How did I get nominated?" Sheppard asked.

"You're the 'go to guy'," McKay said, grinning. "You're the guy who gets things done. Mr. I can do anything. So, chop-chop! Let's get climbing!" And he made a little movement with his hands as if climbing.

“Yeah,” Sheppard replied returning his gaze to the ladder. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Maybe I’ll head out and start looking for something worthwhile,” McKay stated hopefully.

“Nope,” Sheppard told him as he climbed. “You’re stuck here, same as me.” He quickly climbed the ladder, which ended just below the top of the lower room. He stepped on the rung, to make the final big step into the upper room, and nearly lost his balance when the rung moved.

Sheppard ducked in alarm as something loomed over them – something big snapped like a trap and a huge lid slammed down onto the lower room, smashing his ankle as he scrambled to get fully out of the lower room and out of the way.

Letting out a howl of pain, Sheppard crumbled to his knees, and McKay shouted his name.

PART 3: SUCKING AND SINKING  
Teyla yanked with all her might, trying to pull her hand free of the tightening cord, but the plant was strong and would not release her.

Anxiously, she called, “Ronon!” Near her feet, green growth undulated, a struggling heap of vines with Ronon beneath. She caught glimpses of him as the leaves flowed over – an arm, a leg, teeth, a mop of hair, bared teeth, a furious eye.

She grasped the vines that encapsulated Ronon with her one free hand, and she pulled, trying to free the Satedan even as the vines snaked around her legs.

She felt them tightening, grasping, pulling, but she would not give up. She would not allow the horrible plant to take them both.

Then a flash of metal caught her eye, a knife slicing. An angry roar echoed as, from beneath the pile of vines, Ronon fought, trying to cut his way free. Vines continued to contract around him.

Teyla gasped as ivy wrapped around her waist and pulled. It seemed to be purposefully separating them, yanking at her, restraining. She kept trying to free herself, but her free arm was finally captured. She dug in her heels, but it wasn't enough. She was tugged away. She stumbled as the plant knotted at her feet, as she was forced backward, and she tottered over more vines.

Unable to free herself, she tried to reach for her radio, to activate it and call to the others, but the plant would not allow her movement. It dragged her further from her teammate. It bit into her skin, cinching tighter by the moment. She drew her breath in gasps as her chest was constricted.

“Ronon!” she called again. “Ronon!” The majority of the vines seemed focused on the Satedan, determined to keep him down, to envelop him and pull him to pieces. The plant pulled her away from the doorway and closer to the center of the room. “Ronon!”

The knife still flashed as the vines swarmed over him like snakes. “M’busy!” a voice shouted from beneath the mobbing growth.

“Do not let it wrap around your neck!” she shouted.

“Yeah,” Ronon barked from beneath the heap. “I figured that out!”

“I will get free and assist you,” Teyla promised. Upright still, she had a better chance than Ronon, and she tugged harder, determined to free them both from this horror. If she could reach her weapon, she could shoot the vines to pieces. She would succeed. She would get loose and help Ronon, and…

She heard a sound, a strange wet sucking gasp and she turned her head. A thick stalk had risen up. She gasped in disbelief. It was huge, like a giant pillar set in the middle of the room. A cavernous slash ran through the center and it opened and closed greedily as the whole thing seemed to pulse. Within the gash, it dripped with foul liquids.

It looked obscene.

“Ronon!” she shouted again. “We have more to worry about!”

From beneath the slithering ball of vines, Ronon let out a growl.

Teyla fought all the harder the maw gaped, and the vines dragged her nearer.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888  
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!’ Sheppard growled out as he struggled to free his foot. The cage-like grid pressed heavily on his ankle, threatening to pull him down on top of it. He steadied himself on the floor of the upper room while McKay moved in a flurry in the room beneath.

Rodney shouted excitedly. “The door shut!”

“I know! It’s on my goddamn foot!” Sheppard gritted out. His leg was stuck between the wall and the last step, smashed by the weight of the grill. He reached down, grasping hold of the heavy lid and tried to lift it. The thing wouldn’t give. “Get me the hell out of here!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. Okay.”

McKay was on the ladder, trying to push up on the cage-lid, as Sheppard tried his radio. “Ronon? Teyla?” he called, a false calm in his tone. “We got trouble. Respond. Ronon? Teyla? Come on… come on…” He kept pulling up on the grill as Rodney pushed from underneath.

“Did they respond?” Rodney asked.

“Come on, come on,” Sheppard growled as he tried to lift the grate. The fucking thing must have weighed a ton. “COME ON!”

“I take it that’s a ‘no’,” Rodney said dourly. He changed his position, giving up on pushing with his hands. Instead, he moved up a step and braced himself fully against the ladder to put his shoulder into the lid. “I know I’m going to end up wrenching my back for doing this,” Rodney sighed.

“Just push!” John ordered, pulling up with both hands, hoping that Ronon and Teyla had heard. Why hadn’t they responded? “Push! You’re not helping!”

“I am! Do you think I’m having a tea party down here?”

“Well, you’re definitely not lifting the damn thing. Come on, put your back into it!”

“What do you think… ah hell. I’m ending up at the chiropractor,” Rodney muttered, as he shoved harder. “And I don’t even believe in them – witch doctors of the worst form – snake oil salesmen. They have a racket going with all those suckers coming in for weekly adjustments. Do they think we’re cars or something? Not that you have a car adjusted weekly, but…”

“Rodney,” Sheppard growled as his foot throbbed under the weight of the lid. God, it was being smashed. “Get this thing off me!”

“I’m trying! I can feel it moving up a bit!”

“I need more than a ‘bit’, McKay!” Sheppard snapped.

“This isn’t easy, you know. It's heavy! Okay. One more time. Here we go,” and Rodney groaned, shoving up with all the force he could muster.

And the lid lifted the inches needed. Gripping the grate with one hand, John used the other to maneuver his foot, letting out a shout as the pain surged through the extremity with its release.

The lid slammed down as Rodney cried, “Sorry! Sorry! I’m just trying to help. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine… fine…” Sheppard told him, falling onto his back. “I’m free. You did good, Rodney.” God, it hurt. The whole foot throbbed. Something was undoubtedly broken. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be walking home on that. He closed his eyes, and just breathed deeply.

“You okay?” Rodney asked, his voice sounding hollow.

“Been better," Sheppard said tersely through his teeth.

"Bet that hurt."

"You'd win that bet." 

"Is it really bad? I mean, your foot didn't get cut off or anything, did it? I don't see it here, but you can rest assured that if it DID fall down here I'd be right there to pick it up and put it on ice... if I had ice. I wonder if the lake water is cold."

"Rodney!" Sheppard snapped. 

"Sorry. I was babbling wasn't I? Bad habit, I know. But... how's the foot?"

Sheppard grimaced, not wanting to think about it. Hurt like a son of a bitch.

He realized that he had to assess the damage. He sat up on his elbows and moaned when he saw blood on his pant leg. The boot was torn. His foot seemed to realize he was looking at it, and decided to bombard him with an extra surge of agony. Damn it. Damn it. It hurt. It hurt like hell. So damn stupid.

Every beat of his heart sent a shock of pain through his leg. He lowered himself to the floor again and flung an arm over his eyes as he tried to get a handle on the pain.

Now what were they doing to do?

"You okay up there?" McKay asked. "Because, you haven't said anything. You can be pretty tight-lipped, so I don't know if that means anything. I wouldn't want to think you're bleeding out because I really don't know when to apply a tourniquet. Why would they teach a person how to do it in first aid and then forbid you to ever follow the procedure? It's asinine!"

"Think you can get up here?” Sheppard asked. “You’re going to have to do something about the foot."

"You're bleeding?"

"Yeah."

"Oh God," Rodney responded, his voice tense. "Okay, okay, I guess I can use my belt for the tourniquet. Pressure points!" He could hear the scientist shuffling about, probably pulling off his pack in an attempt to get at his belt.

"It's not that bad, McKay!" Sheppard replied quickly. "There's not that much blood. Just get up here, and check it out. Then, you're going to have to find the others. I don’t know why they’re not responding.”

“How do you expect me to get up there?”

“Go around,” Sheppard said, irritated.

“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? The doors shut.”

“I know!” Sheppard grumbled. “It fell on my foot! Go through the doors that we came in through.”

McKay grumbled, and Sheppard could hear him pacing about. “The doors SHUT!” he shouted.

“Oh,” Sheppard replied and lowered his arm to his side. The entrance doors must have been wired into the lid somehow. Damn.

Beneath him, Rodney was calling for Ronon and Teyla on the radio, without any apparently response. Then there was a sound that John didn’t remember hearing before. What the hell was that? Static?

Rodney said a quiet, “Oh no.”

Sheppard swallowed and told him, “Don’t worry about it. They’ll come when they figure out they haven’t heard from us.” Either that, or Atlantis would send out a search party – eventually.

“No… no, no, no!” McKay’s voice rose as the rushing increased. “No… no…” the voice dipped, becoming a plea, nearly a sob. He was moving quickly, his feet making a strange splashing sound.

Splashing?

“Rodney?” Sheppard called as he sat up.

“Not good. This is so not good!” Rodney uttered tightly.

Water – the sound of water. "Rodney?" with a groan, Sheppard flipped himself onto his stomach and carefully maneuvered to the edge of the lower room. Below the grate, he could see the top of Rodney’s head as the scientist moved about. Water sluiced in from the pipes, pouring into the room. 

A lot of water.

Already, it was up over McKay’s ankles. Crap!

The lower room was darker with the outside doors sealed, and Rodney was rapidly moving along one wall, hands feeling about, searching for any sort of panel. He was muttering, his words unintelligible, his voice quick and panicked as he tried to find something that would aid him.

Sheppard reached down. One arm grasped onto the heavy cage-like lid and he had a horrible sinking, sunken feeling as the water continued to pour into the room.

PART 4: THE DROWNING POOL  
Ronon fought. The vines held him down. They seemed almost intelligent in their movements, purposefully tugging at his wrists, restraining his arms and holding tight to his legs.

They were strong.

But Ronon was strong -- and he had knives. 

He gained a little with each slice, slashing until he had the space to direct the blades back toward himself and cut at the vines that attempted to restrain him. He twisted, getting his knees beneath him, and freed his sword.

It was then that he saw Teyla – and the repugnant mouth.

“Ronon!” she shouted as it pulled her, as her legs fought for balance in the tangle of vines. Then she turned toward the pulsing opening. She tried to dig in, but could do nothing as it forced her onward.

Ronon roared as he fought to stand upright, the sword flying. It slashed mercilessly at the vines, slicing them from stalks, paring the long vines, pruning most horribly.

Ivy kept reaching for him – almost like hands. “Teyla!” he shouted as it continued to pull at her. He released another knife free to heft it at the thing.

Her feet were off the ground. The thing was lifting her, wrapping itself around her body like ropes.

He didn’t know where to aim. The moist, smacking mouth opened wide and he flung the knife into the soft opening and it shivered.

Then, with one wretched movement, it propelled her the final distance and popped her into the wet and vulgar mouth-like opening. The whole thing contracted, and started to squeeze its opening shut from the bottom up.

Ronon roared with rage as he flung another knife, hitting the writhing stalk just above the still open ‘mouth’.

Still visible within the horrid plant, Teyla fought. Her hands were freed from the vines, but the opening was closing, tightening around her, squeezing her body until she could not move. Only her head was visible as she struggled.

Ronon forced himself toward her, snapping vines that they went off like gunshots. Teyla disappeared from sight as the plant continued its fight to contain him.  
888888888888888888888888888888888888888888  
“Push on it!” Sheppard barked. “Come on!”

“I am!” Sheppard trying to lift the lid as McKay pressed his back against it. “It’s not moving,” Rodney cried.

Sheppard strained, pulling hard on the grate as the water poured in below. “Damn it, McKay. You’re not even trying!”

“It’s not moving. Before, it did. I could lift it a little bit. It’s locked down now,” McKay whined. “Oh God! Oh God, it’s not moving at all!” He stopped shoving and looked up at Sheppard through the grate. “I’m trapped!”

“Calm down!” Sheppard insisted as he struggled, still trying to get the lid to move, but it remained in place – locked down. Beneath him, Rodney was on the ladder, with the water already reaching him. Damn it!

“Is there a lever or something up there? There must be! Find it!” McKay insisted. “Get me out!”

Sheppard sat back, and studied the walls, looking for anything that looked like a re-set switch. With a groan, he forced himself upward, trying to ignore the pain that surged through his foot. 

“Hurry!” McKay called. “It’s getting higher! I don’t think… I don’t think it’s going to stop when it reaches the top. I think it’s going to keep filling this whole tank. There's a good foot or so of room beyond this lid!”

“I know!” Sheppard ground out as he hobbled to the wall, not wanting to think about the condition of his foot. He groped at the gauges and toggles. "Which one?" he shouted over his shoulder.

"How the hell should I know?" Rodney shot back, and then, "Maybe something big... and red?"

Sheppard frowned. "Nothing like that."

"Green then! Green is good for a safety switch!"

"No colors, McKay!"

"A big lever? Some sort of switch, lever, toggle, maybe a wheel? A wheel valve?"

Sheppard tried a lever, and then another, switching them one way and then another as nothing happened.

"Are you doing anything?" Rodney asked, his voice reedy.

"I'm trying anything I can find!" Sheppard responded as he moved another. He frowned as he listened, wondering if there should be some sound accompanying the change in lever position. There wasn't even a 'click'. "Nothing's working. They don't seem to be hooked up to anything."

“Sheppard!” McKay shouted from behind him. “Do something!”

“Hang in there, Rodney.” Sheppard kept trying, stumbling and swearing as his foot gave him grief. Another step, and his leg nearly gave way beneath him. He cursed loudly.

“Sheppard?” McKay called again. “It’s getting really high.”

“Just… don’t panic,” Sheppard responded, his hands flitting across various controls that he didn’t understand.

“Don’t panic? I think this is a very good reason for panic! I’ve got an excellent reason for a full on panic attack right now!”

“Rodney! Just… just… try…” Sheppard ordered. “I’ll fix it. I swear to you, I’ll get you out.”

“It’s just that… oh God…” More splashing. “It’s up to my waist now and it's getting higher. Oh God… oh God this sucks.”

There was no place for Rodney to go inside that tank –certainly the room was a water tank. The water would keep rising to that grate – beyond it – and Rodney had nowhere to go.

What the hell was that thing for? The room seemed set up for drowning people. What sort of freaked-out mind thought up crap like this? Sheppard worked, frantic to find something that would deactivate the room, but all his button pushing and toggle punching led to nothing. The wall of controls had to be deactivated. He slammed a fist against it.

“Sheppard? What are you doing up there? Because… I can’t see from down here and it doesn't sound like you're...” There was some splashing and Rodney coughed. "God, this sucks!"

“Just hold on,” Sheppard shouted gave up on finding a switch. “That’s all I’m asking, Rodney.” He wasn’t going to find a secret dial or mystery toggle. Nothing here worked. “Damn it,” he whispered. “Just hold on.”

“That’s pretty much all I can do right now. What I really want to do is be able to breathe!”

Sheppard glanced toward the lower room – the water tank – and suddenly had an idea. He started his search anew -- his gaze raked the room.

“It’s too high!” McKay shouted, his voice getting gobbled up as he coughed. “I think the water’s coming in faster. It’s at my neck! This is bad. This is so bad!”

Come on, Sheppard thought. Just let me find it! With a gasp of relief, he spotted what he needed and scrambled to another wall. “I got it, Rodney! You’re going to be okay!” His hands grasped onto a pipe, and yanked at the coupling where it went into the wall. It wouldn’t give. Frantically, he worked at the joint, working the bolt that secured it to the next pipe.

“This sucks… this sucks… this sucks…” Rodney sputtered. “You got to open it now! Now! I’m not going to be able to…”

The bottom of the pipe came loose, along with the 90 degree fitting that had secured it. “Almost there, Rodney.”

“Sheppard? Sheppard? If this doesn’t work. I want… I want you to…”

“Shut up, Rodney,” Sheppard ordered as he stepped back. He used all his weight to wrench the pipe, to pull it loose from above. With a shriek, the metal bent, then it came apart with a loud snap. He stepped badly and he went down in a ball of agony.

“What are you… doing?” McKay called.

Shit, shit, shit, shit! Sheppard rolled onto his side. His foot screamed at him, and he resisted the urge to grasp hold of the barking foot and just cradle it. Instead, he crawled, dragging himself to the tank. “Rodney, I’m back!”

“Great… great…” and Rodney coughed again, sputtering pathetically. “‘Cause this is no fun at all.”

Sheppard kept his expression schooled as he looked into the tank. The water had reached the grate. McKay had his head tipped back, his mouth shoved up through the hole, clinging with one hand to the bars, while the other – undoubtedly—steadied him on the ladder.

“Can’t you open the top?” McKay asked, his eyes wide and beseeching. “Please... please…”

“I will,” Sheppard promised as he twisted the metal pipe around, offering the end with the bent fitting to Rodney. “But this will buy us some time.”

McKay fixed frightened eyes on it, not understanding. Water lapped around his lips as he pressed against the bars, trying to get another breath as the water steadily rose. In another moment, he wouldn’t be able to get his mouth any higher and he’d be out of air.

“Snorkel!” Sheppard yelled, shoving the pipe at him.

Comprehension dawned and Rodney grasped for the pipe, awkwardly trying to get it into his mouth, but finding the angle difficult. “I’m going to break my teeth,” Rodney groaned.

Small price, Sheppard thought then, pointed downward at him. “Get yourself more upright. It’ll work. I promise! Put your head underwater.”

McKay gave him an anxious look as he fit the end of the pipe in his mouth, and then ducked his head down.

Sheppard carefully fed the pipe, making sure it followed Rodney easily so that one end stayed above water, while the other wouldn’t get knocked out of his mouth. Trusting him, McKay now had the top of his head against the gate and his head totally submerged.

The water kept rising, but the pipe was long enough to stay out of the water. Sheppard held the end of the tube to his ear and could hear the gasping breaths coming through. Thank you, he thought. Thank you. It had worked.

He sat, getting his screaming foot out from under him.

Water had risen over the grate by at least an inch and was getting higher, and Sheppard sat quietly for a moment, listing to the air that huffed through the pipe. Too fast.

“Calm down, Rodney,” Sheppard said firmly. He reached out and put his hand on top of Rodney’s – the hand that still grasped the grate. “Calm down.” The water was cold – too chilled -- and he grimaced with the realization that even though Rodney could breathe, he wouldn’t last long.

Damn it!

This seriously sucked.

Sheppard shouted, “I’m going to figure this out, okay? I need to let go of the pipe! Are you ready?”

He had no idea of Rodney heard him, but he couldn’t just sit here.

He let go. Please… The pipe wobbled a moment and then came straight again. Good job, Rodney.

“I’m not going far,” he promised. “I have to find a way to get you out, okay?”

He wasn’t expecting anything, but he would have felt better if he’d received some sort of reply.

With a groan, Sheppard struggled to his feet, and then limped painfully toward the controls to find something that could help him. He had to find the right switch, the right lever. Something here had to help him.

As he moved, he tried his radio again, calling for Ronon and Teyla.

Nothing.

Damn… damn. What had happened to them? Could it be any worse than this?

PART 5: WHALE  
He was cold. So damn cold that he couldn’t feel the pipe in his hand any longer – he could hardly feel his grip on the grating. He was swaying underwater, clinging to hope as he counted. He counted seconds into minutes as he tried to assure himself that Sheppard wouldn’t take any longer than five minutes to figure out how to control the tank.

Of course, it would take less time if he – Rodney McKay – were on the job, but such was his luck. He was always ending up the chump in peril while someone under-qualified tried to save him.

It was totally unfair.

He sucked through the pipe, hating it. Hating the way the pipe tasted, how it felt in his mouth, how it make his lips hurt. It had probably been used to carry some carcinogenic liquid in its former life and he tried not to think about that too much.

He counted. The numbness took over, and he could hardly feel the pipe in his mouth – and then he started to panic because he realized that he wouldn't be able to keep it in place if he didn’t even know it was there.

He held it tightly in place with one hand, trying to assure himself that he would not lose it. 

He was cold.

He used to love the water. He used to love to go swimming. It was great because it wasn't a team sport and he could do whatever he wanted in the pool. It was enjoyable as long as none of the other kids were around. He remembered that as a child he liked to hold his breath to see how long he could stay underwater. It's a good skill to have, he used to tell himself, because you never know when it might come in handy.

Yeah... right.

He tried not remember the puddle jumper and how it had filled with water. He tried not to remember what Old Elizabeth had said about his demise in that alternate timeline. He tried not to think about the whales of his nightmares and how they always pulled him underwater to drown him.

They always pulled him down. Sometimes they tugged at his feet – almost playfully – but relentlessly keeping him under, fully aware of what they were doing. They were mammals after all and understood the need for air, they understood he would drown. They were smart creatures, weren't they? Sometimes they held him in their mouths as they swam downward downward downward until he woke up in bed, gasping for breath.

He didn’t want to drown. He taught himself how to hold his breath as a child in case the whales came for him.

He tried not to think, because the thoughts would overwhelm him and he’d start to panic and he’d have this overpowering NEED to get out – get out – get out! 

He gasped and it sounded so weird in the pipe. I have to get out! I have to get out! He shoved at the cage top with his one hand, and kicked with his feet as if he could swim hard enough to break free.

It got him nowhere.

He knew better. There was no getting out -- not by himself. Sheppard had to fix it. Sheppard or Teyla or Ronon... where were they? Why hadn't they responded?

Calm down, calm down, calm down, he urged. They will get you out! And he forced himself to calm and to take up counting seconds again.

He had lost count, but he was certain that more than five minutes had passed.

Maybe Sheppard couldn’t stand up to reach the controls. He must have hurt his foot pretty badly. It surely looked horrible from below. What if he was incapacitated, sprawled out on the floor and unable to move? What if Ronon and Teyla were hurt, too?

What happened to them in a greenhouse? Why hadn’t they answered their radios?

What if they were hurt, too? What if no one was coming and they were all hurt and alone – in their own little versions of hell.

Oh God, there’ll be no one to help me. I’ll drown. I’ll freeze. I’ll never get out.

Don’t panic. Please, don’t panic.

Everything is fine. There's no evidence that anything happened to Ronon and Teyla. They're probably enjoying the pretty flowers. They’ll come when the show is over. Yes, they’ll be here any moment.

He tried to imagine Ronon perusing the local version of daffodils and dahlias, but couldn’t quite get his mind around the image -- flower child -- maybe he was decorating his hair with daisies.

It's been more than five minutes -- definitely longer than that. Okay, maybe Sheppard will take ten minutes to figure it out. He's clever, but he's not MY kind of clever.

And he started counting seconds again. Rodney furrowed his brow even though he couldn’t feel his face any longer. He listened to his own breathing.

Next time, I get to choose which broken-down building I explore. Next time, I won’t get tricked into the taking death trap.

What was this place for, anyway? The natives sucked! What the hell were they thinking? Seriously, this thing could drown people!

I’m not going to drown. I’m not going to drown. There is no whale. Nothing is going to pull at my feet.

It’s not like the jumper even though it’s entirely like the jumper!

He dreamed about the sinking jumper about once a week, sometimes more often when the days were stressful. He dreamed of water reaching his neck, of it getting higher, of being trapped in a confined place and totally alone -- not even a delusion to keep him company -- and no voice on the radio that called him 'buddy' and told him to open the door.

He was so cold. His hands held on only because he concentrated on keeping them in position. He couldn’t feel them.

Longer than ten minutes. How much longer? He’d lost count again.

What if I never get out? You have a snorkel. You'll be fine. You can breathe forever this way, right? But, what if I’m here for too long? I’ll go hypothermic. I won’t be able to hold on much longer. I’ll lose my grip on the stupid pipe and drown!

I don’t want to drown. Please, don’t let me drown. I want out. Someone, please let me out!

Don’t panic!

Sheppard had promised him.

He only needed to hang on.

So he held on in the silent odd world of the water. He kept his eyes shut because he couldn’t see anything. He didn’t want to see. Something might have come in. God, he hoped it didn’t pull at his feet.

His head hurt from the cold and he pressed it against the side of the tank, careful of the snorkel, and he started counting again to keep himself from panicking.

They’ll get me out.  
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Ronon tore his way through the vine, slicing and dicing, swing his sword as the vines continued to come at him. If he freed one arm, it was almost instantly recaptured. The vines tore at his skin, bringing up welts and drawing blood. One creeper twirled around his hair and -- like a bastard -- ripped out a patch.

Ronon howled.

The vines were insidious and would not stop coming at him, but he could not pause and he bellowed Teyla's name again.

The thick stalk swayed and moved as Teyla fought inside it. He could see her, could make out her form as she slammed her body about inside the thing. It throbbed and pulsed, and seemed to be constricting her even tighter.

Tired of it, Ronon tore at the vines and finally managed to lay his hand on his blaster. With a mighty effort, he ripped it from his side, aimed above Teyla’s head, and fired.

The top of the stalk came off in a pulpy shower as the windows shattered behind it. The shaft of plant shuddered. He smiled, enjoying the destruction.

He fired again, and again, taking out sections of the huge plant, careful to stay clear of Teyla. With his other arm, he wielded the sword, whaling at the vegetation. Plant parts flew. Windows went to pieces in a cacophony as he kept firing, aiming at important-looking parts the plant.

Ronon sneered as the vines tightened around him, and as the main stalk continued to hold Teyla. He needed to get closer, to slice that thing open. There was no sign that Teyla was getting any air – and she’d been in that thing too long.

He was her only hope.

He aimed again, but the stalk gave one final tremble, and abruptly exploded.

Vines, leaves, glass and wet debris fell all around them as Teyla stood in the remnants of the plant. She was dripping with goo and clenching a P90.

“Heh,” Ronon breathed out, and grinned at her.

Her mouth was drawn tight as she glared into the mess, her nostrils flared, and she clutched her weapon in a ruthless grip. Finally, she made a great gasp and fired into the remains. And once she seemed certain that it would move no more, she raised her gaze to find Ronon.

The Satedan gave her a smile as Teyla ran her hand over her eyes, clearing away some slippery slop.

Ooze coated her hair and dripped from her. She glanced around the room, seeming to finally notice the damage done to it, and spun about sharply as a pane of glass fell behind her somewhere.

A vine slithered over Ronon’s head and he snapped out an arm to fire at it, bringing down more glass. It shattered around him, but he refused to flinch and he gained a few more cuts. The severed vine fell.

“Ready to go?” Ronon asked.

Teyla gave him a sharp nod and started making her way toward the nearest shattered window, careful as her feet slipped on the ground.

The vines still twitched and undulated on the floor, but their strength seemed to be gone. Ronon slashed at them with his sword as he moved quickly to Teyla’s side.

“You okay?” Ronon asked as she looked over her shoulder at the green mess.

“It was unpleasant,” Teyla admitted, keeping her voice even, pushing her sloppy hair from her face. “And I will be glad to be gone from here.” She seemed to really see Ronon for the first time, and reached out a hand to touch one of the nasty looking cuts on his arm.

“We’ll take care of it once we get out,” Ronon promised.

Teyla nodded and climbed to the window. She waited until she knew that Ronon was right behind her, and then stepped through the opening.  
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888  
Sheppard turned sharply at the sound of gunfire and shattering glass. He hesitated, looking toward the tank. The water seemed to have reached its highest level – about a foot over the top of the cage top, several inches below the level of the upper room – and the snorkel pipe still remained above the surface.

More gunfire.

Ronon and Teyla were in trouble, but he couldn’t leave Rodney like this. Glass shattered again. He heard the unmistakable sound of the blaster, and then the bark of a P90.

He left the wall of gadgets and painfully limped toward the door. He had to trust that they’d get themselves out of their current mess. He knew that if anyone could manage it – Teyla and Ronon could do it. Still, he had to see, had to know what they were up against.

He reached the door and took a moment to figure out how to work the lock. “I’m not leaving, Rodney,” he stated, even though he knew Rodney couldn’t hear a thing. “I’m just checking on the others. Seems they got themselves into a fix, too. Probably not as bad as yours, but you never know with them. What could go wrong in a greenhouse, right?” He talked to keep himself calm.

He shoved the door open to gaze at the greenhouse, and then ducked back into the room as the windows on his side of the greenhouse blew out.

Then all was quiet. He peered through the doorway again and was about to shout out for the others when he saw a movement. Teyla appeared at one of the broken out windows, and then she jumped to the ground – followed by Ronon.

They both wobbled as they stood.

“Ronon! Teyla!” Sheppard shouted, waving one arm broadly at them.

They looked toward him and then started to slowly meander in his direction.

Sheppard cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Rodney’s in trouble! I need your help!”

And they picked up the pace.

Ensuring that the door wouldn’t lock when shut, Sheppard let it swing closed. He looked toward the tank again – metal snorkel still there – check.

With a sigh, he started walking again, hobbling back toward the levers and gauges that didn’t seem to do anything, stifling a moan with each step. “You’d better work this time,” he muttered as he tried another knob. “I have to get him out of there. I promised!” He closed his eyes for a moment as an ache ran through his leg. He wondered how much longer it would support him. Long as it took, he told himself.

There was a sound at the door, and suddenly Teyla was there. Sheppard turned toward her and started to speak, but then he got a good look at her.

She was covered in some sort of strange, semi-transparent, odiferous goo. Her hair was slicked to a helmet. She was bruised, with reddened patches visible all over her body. She hunched.

Behind her, Ronon lumbered in – black and blue patches all over his skin, cuts and slashes visible everywhere. His clothing was torn. A patch of his hair was missing. He looked as if he’d been through a battle.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sheppard asked as he leaned against the wall.

Ronon heaved a breath and stated, “I was about to ask you the same.”

"We're having a whale of a time," Sheppard grumbled.

“Rodney?” Teyla asked impatiently.

Sheppard nodded toward the tank. “He’s over there.

Teyla and Ronon looked where Sheppard indicated. Teyla clutched her arms to herself and Ronon wavered on his feet. They didn’t see anything.

“Where?” Ronon asked.

Sheppard pointed. “Underwater,” he said. “Do not touch that pipe.”

“Pipe?” Teyla echoed and her gaze caught the metal snorkel that poked from the water, and if possible – she looked even more distraught. “Rodney,” she said under her breath and followed Ronon toward the tank.

“He’s trapped,” John went on. "What the hell is this thing?"

"Shimmo tank," the Satedan commented as he stood above the tank, looking almost angry. “You planning on getting him out?” he asked.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Sheppard shouted. “I can’t get anything here to work!”

Teyla glanced toward the wall. “They probably decommissioned the site and the controls have been deactivated.”

“Then what do I do?!” Sheppard shouted. “How do I activate them!”

“There’s an entrance below?” Ronon asked as if he knew the answer already.

Sheppard hobbled toward them as he pointed. “Yeah, if you go down the slope, there’s a pair of doors that…” He didn’t finish.

Ronon pulled his blaster from his side and ran out of the building at an uneven trot.

Teyla sort of slithered to the ground, gazing into the water. She put out a hand as if she meant to reach for the pipe, but thought better of it, not wanting to startle Rodney. Ooze dripped from her arm, and puddled around her as she sat. She turned toward John, looking miserable. “What happened?”

With a sigh, John explained, “I don’t know. One minute, Rodney and I are in that room down there. I climbed up here, and that set off something. A lid came down – some sort of top to a cage – and then it started filling with water. Shimmo tank? What the hell is that? I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I couldn’t figure out how to reset it.”

Teyla’s unfocused gaze seemed to find John’s battered foot and then she turned back to the water. “It’s not your fault,” she said quietly.

“I sure as hell didn’t do anything to fix it, and I still don’t know what to do!” Sheppard responded sharply, as he turned with some difficulty and tried to make his way back to the wall with the levers.

The blaster fired outside and the concussion of it radiated through the building. It fired again – and again. Sheppard lifted his head, gazing in the direction of the sound, while Teyla hovered over the pool.

“Only a few moments longer, Rodney,” she said confidently. “Just wait. We will get you out.”

The blasts continued relentlessly and the building shook. Then, there was a strange sound – a hissing.

“See? We are nearly…” Teyla let out a despairing gasp as the pipe suddenly disappeared into the water. “Rodney!” she called as a wave of bubbles came up from below. “Rodney!”

But he was gone.

“No! no,” Sheppard as he turned toward her and the featureless pool of water “No!” he screamed, falling down beside her feeling so damn helpless, so hopeless. Arm reached through the water, but were countered by the cage top. "No!"

Then a huge explosion shook the room.  
PART 6: IN THE MUD  
This sucks. God, this sucks.

Rodney waited in the cold, sucking air through an unpleasant metal pipe that he could no longer feel or taste. He held on, even though his hands had become numb. He waited. He hoped. He held on. After all, Sheppard had told him to 'hang on'. Sheppard had promised to get him out.

He will. I just hope it's soon. How long now? If I'd only kept track of the seconds, I'd be able to say. Maybe, it was better to be left in the dark.

There was a strange noise. He stiffened as he listened – trying to figure it out, but he’d heard nothing like it before. The water seemed to throb and thrum around him.

What? What was that?

The sound became a screech, and Rodney’s heart raced. What was that?!

Not a whale. Not a whale!

The screeching continued, high and fierce, as the water seemed to pulse. It was getting louder. Finally, in spite of himself, he opened his eyes. It always hurt to open eyes underwater and it took a moment for him to discern what was around him. Light still streamed in from above the grid, and he could see shadows -- human shapes. He blinked upward, and made out two shadows.

Teyla? Ronon? Oh, thank God! Thank God! It had to be one of them with John -- unless it was the Wraith.

Why did you think of that? Why are you always thinking of things like that?

It's a survival instinct. Always consider the worst case scenario and things will have to turn out better than that. Yeah, and you considered that you might be trapped in some sort of water vault, destined to drown or freeze or that you'd be eaten by space whales today! I'd like to see them put a solution to THAT in those clever books. 

Those are not Wraith. There are no whales in here.

The shadows moved above his head, but something else caught his attention and he lowered his gaze to peer forward. A horrible reddish blur appeared on the far side of the room. Something shrieked in the water.

He didn’t mean to panic.

It was a shock when he lost the pipe. His mouth was too numb to feel it, and it just fell, and it was a miracle that he didn't just breathe in water. For a startled second, he held his breath, terrified. How could he be so stupid! So damn stupid. 

He reached, trying to find the snorkel, but his hands were like wooden blocks and he had no hope of grasping a pipe that had long since fallen.

He lost his grip on the ladder—and let out a shout of terror as he dropped into the water – and then, with a jarring yank, he was pulled.  
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The building rocked with the force of the explosion. The water foamed and frothed with the violence of its ejection as it was sucked from the room, and Teyla reached again, her arm straining through the bars of the cage below. As the space emptied, her eyes searched, finding no trace of the scientist.

The tank was vacant. Light streamed in from where doors had been previously sealed.

She staggered to her feet, hating her uncertain balance and the uneasiness of her stomach. She felt horrible. There had been something in that plant. She’d certainly ingested some of it when she was squeezed inside the thing, and now she was suffering for it.

She looked to John. He was trying to keep his feet under him. His eyes remained focused on the now empty tank. He kept searching as if he expected to see Rodney.

He raised his gaze and found hers. For a moment, there was fear and uncertainty – and then he ordered, “Find him!”

Teyla gave a tight nod as she rushed toward the door, pleading with the Ancestors for the strength to keep moving. Her legs felt determined to trip her, and her hands – still slick with the vile liquid of the plant – had little purchase and the handle of the door slipped in her grasp.

She forced the door fully open and followed the direction that Ronon had taken, around the building and down the slope. She struggled to keep from falling, feeling her stomach churning with a building illness. Her head ached and the world seemed to swim around her and she forced away the dots that clouded her vision.

She blinked as she came around the corner of the building, momentarily confused by the sight.

Water had carved out a channel – tearing into the dry land and pooling to form an unpleasant looking mud. One of the building’s huge doors was blown from its hinges and was carried some distance. Ronon was sprawled out on his back a good dozen yards beyond the door. Rodney, in-between the building and the door, was curled on his side.

Water continued to flow away from the scene, down the little channel that must have once been a riverbed. Everything looked scarred and mauled, as if some giant animal had dragged a great claw through the land.

Ronon lifted his arm, and rubbed a hand over his muddy face. Rodney wasn’t moving at all.

Determinedly, Teyla forced herself onward, having to concentrate to move her legs. Everything seemed to spin, and she held out her arms to keep her balance.

“Rodney,” she called. “Rodney?” But Rodney remained still, his arms folded in front of himself, his hands curled to his chest. She would have called out to Ronon, but didn’t trust herself to be capable of holding a conversation at the moment. And she doubted that Ronon would be able to answer coherently either.

She squelched through the mud. The distance, usually not an issue to her, seemed ridiculously far and she struggled with each step, determined to keep moving – to reach her friends.

Finally she drew nearer, close enough to see that Ronon’s eyes were open and he was looking in the direction of Rodney. The big man was making an attempt to sit up, and failing. Rodney still hadn’t moved. His face was turned so that she could not see it, and still he hadn’t moved.

Ronon kept trying to force himself upright.

Teyla swallowed and continued forward. Little spasms were firing along her legs, and she knew she couldn’t keep going for long.

She still couldn’t tell if Rodney was breathing. She forced herself through the last few feet, and then squished down in the mud beside him.

Everything continued to spin, and she fought with her stomach, determined not to be ill, not while her team needed her. She closed her eyes a moment. When she opened them, she could see Ronon looking at her, and she lowered her gaze to Rodney.

His face was turned to the mud. His hair was matted. His clothing was soaked. His eyes were closed and his skin was unnaturally pale, but his mouth was open -- and he breathed.

Teyla let out a sigh of relief and reached a hand to touch his pale features. “Rodney,” she called.

At the touch, Rodney gasped and his eyes fluttered open. The blue looked incredibly deep compared to the white of his skin. Water drops was caught in his long lashes, and he closed his eyes, wearily.

“Rodney,” she called again, brushing against his face gently, feeling the chill in his skin. She glanced up as she saw movement. Ronon was sitting up, looking dazed but victorious. “Rodney, talk to me,” Teyla spoke.

Rodney scrunched up his face and drew himself into a ball, muttering a hoarse, “ ‘m cold.” And he started to shiver.

“Can you sit up?” she asked tentatively. “It would be good to get you off of the wet ground. Can you sit up?” she repeated.

He opened his eyes again and then sighed. “Think so,” he murmured, his voice a low slur, and then he coughed. The action wracked his body.

Teyla waited until the episode passed, and then asked, "Are you ready?"

"No," Rodney mumbled petulantly.

“I will help you,” Teyla promised.

It took some effort from both of them, but soon Rodney was sitting upright, shaking and drawing his hands into his sodden clothing. He sneezed and rubbed an arm under his nose. Mud caked one side of his face. “I’m cold,” he reiterated and then coughed again, shaking his whole body with the effort.

Teyla helped him sit as Ronon staggered to his feet. The Satedan lurched toward them his movements reminding Teyla of the stories her grandfather told her of the legendary Quidnet that lived in the forests of Old Athos.

Ronon’s gaze fixed on both of them as he moved around the bent and blasted door.

“We need to get him out of these clothes,” Teyla said emphatically as Rodney started to lean. Ronon’s coat was nearly as wet as Rodney’s clothing– and everything she had was soaked through with the plant’s foul sap. “It would be best if we moved him away from this mud as well.”

Ronon nodded, his chin coming to rest on his chest. When he came alongside them, he grunted, then slumped further, until his legs folded. He landed with a jarring thump on his rump.

Teyla winced, and she hoped that the mud had cushioned his fall. Rodney’s head was on her shoulder as he continued to shiver.

“You know,” Rodney said, his teeth chattering. “You’re pretty… gross.” With deliberation, he righted himself and ran a hand across his head where it had touched Teyla’s shoulder.

“I am aware of this,” Teyla said quietly.

“Seriously, gross,” he muttered as he made a face and pulled back his hand to look at it. “I got… goo in my ear now.” A violent shudder ran through him as he wrapped his arms around himself.

“I’m sorry,” Teyla said genuinely. “I like it no better than you.”

“I think I’ve been through enough already… thank you very much,” Rodney went on. "What with the… water and the… room with the…” His voice trailed off as he turned dully toward the building. “I’m out?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m out?”

“You are out of that tank,” Teyla assured. “Ronon was able to free you.” And she looked fondly at the Satedan – who smacked his lips and looked straight in front of him. His eyes were unfocused. A great red welt was already visible across his chest where something large had struck him, and a knot was forming on his head. He bobbed.

Rodney’s gaze was on the building with the drowning tank. "I used to like water," he said quietly. "In spite of the whales and all that. Used to like it." It took him a few minutes to take his attention from the building and look toward Ronon. “He doesn’t look so good,” Rodney muttered, then as he gazed toward Teyla. “And you… What… what is that… stuff?” He sneezed.

“I had difficulty with a plant,” Teyla summarized.

“In the greenhouse? Figures. They're no damn good.” Rodney snorted, which made him cough again, and he shook as he clutched his arms around his chest.

“Yes, the greenhouse,” Teyla answered, trying not to think too deeply about the plant that had encased her. She’d been terrified, hardly able to move. It had been a nightmare, come to life – knowing that Ronon was in danger and she was totally incapacitated. She’d fought with all the strength she had, even as the air became stale and she swallowed some of the vile liquid within the plant.

She fought to help Ronon. She fought to free herself. She had fought to get back to her team. She had fought to return to Kanaan and Torren. It was that horror of never seeing her child again that gave her the strength to reach her P90 as the plant constricted her. It gave her the might to pull the trigger as she nearly suffocated.

“You look sick. You okay?” Rodney asked.

Teyla smiled slightly at the softness of his question, the genuine concern in his eyes. Honestly, she felt horrible. Her stomach churned, her limbs felt heavy and ungainly, her head throbbed and the spots were darkening in her vision. The goo, completing coating her, made her feel sticky and disgusting. “I will be well,” she told him, believing it.

“He looks pretty awful, too,” Rodney added, inclining his head slightly toward the building. His head dropped almost immediately as he shivered again.

Teyla turned to where Rodney had indicated. Everything seemed to tilt around her with the movement. It took a moment for her vision to clear and she made out Sheppard doggedly heading toward them, limping.

John kept moving, each step obviously giving him pain. “Are they okay?” he asked, looking from one of his teammates to the next.

“But I believe that Ronon has a concussion and chest injuries. Rodney is hypothermic.” She worked at getting the soaked jacket off of the scientist.

Rodney let her, but clutched at his shirt when she tried to undo it. “I can undress myself…” he grumbled.

“Let her help,” Sheppard ordered as he propelled himself onward, his face taut.

Rodney gave him an unhappy look and kept trying to remove the shirt, but his hands failed to work for him, and he pulled at the fasteners with frustration.

When he reached them, John eased himself down, to sit in the mud with the rest of them. He gazed toward Ronon. “He’s looking a little unbalanced,” John stated.

Ronon turned toward them slowly and said, “I burned the hinges off one of the doors.” He lifted his blaster for emphasis. Teyla smiled slightly, glad to hear him speak.

“So that’s what happened,” John responded as he leaned in to help Teyla get Rodney out of his wet shirt.

“Didn’t think…” Ronon started, but seemed to run out of steam.

“Understatement,” Rodney muttered as his teeth chattered.

“… it would come off like that,” Ronon finally completed. “Bang.” He blinked. “It was fast.”

“Could you stop clenching your arms to your body?” John snapped at Rodney as he tried to work the wet shirt off. “Come on already, relax!”

Rodney turned to Teyla before returning his attention to John. “She’s got stuff all over her,” he said, his voice still slurring, and he let his arms loosen. “Seriously, it’s gross.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sheppard said as he worked his side of the shirt off of Rodney’s arms. “She smells bad, too.”

Teyla crinkled her nose.

“She’s sick. You’d better …” Rodney started and began coughing again, and once the shirt came loose, his arms immediately curled back to his chest as he shuddered.

Teyla used the sopping shirt in an attempt to clean some of the goo off her face. She never felt so disgusting before, but even the simply motions of wiping at her face became a strain. Darkness was crowding in on her and a high whine was filling her hearing.

She gave up on trying cleaning herself and decided that simply staying awake would be her focus.

She blinked and John had already removed his own jacket and was working it onto Rodney. “God, he’s cold,” he said. “And has Ronon been like this the whole time you’ve been here?” 

"Looks like a Zombie," McKay muttered.

"Teyla?" When she didn’t respond to him, John stated, “You really are sick.”

“See,” McKay responded.

She swallowed thickly, feeling awful. “I will be well,” she said again, to assure herself as much as the others. The whine in her head was growing louder.

Teyla regarded her three companions. Rodney was clutching the jacket close to him, shivering and still too pale. His gaze was again on the building and the entrance to the tank room. Ronon was sitting up, but swaying and looking as if he had no idea where he was. John winced as he changed his position. They were in poor shape.

Her eyes focused on John's leg, and she frowned. “You’re bleeding,” she told him.

“Yeah,” John said, sounding more annoyed than anything. “We should move out of this mud. Get up the slope a bit. I should probably start heading toward the Gate.”

“John…” Teyla started, but was cut off by Rodney.

“On that foot? Are you crazy?” Rodney stuttered as his teeth chattered. His lips were an unpleasant shade of blue. “Not going to … make it.”

A flash of shame crossed John’s face as he looked out over the distance toward the Gate.

“He is right,” Teyla said, trying to sound diplomatic, but her head was spinning and she closed her eyes again as she fought down the illness that kept asserting itself. The buzzing seemed to be increasing with each moment. She felt too hot and too cold at the same time. “We should remain here and wait for Atlantis…”

“What’s that?” Ronon cut in.

“What’s Atlantis?” McKay said incredulously. “It’s where you’ve been living for the past…”

“What’s that sound?” Ronon completed.

Teyla looked at him soberly, wondering if he could hear the whine too. She felt as if she was in a stifling hot room, and everything was getting strange.

“I don’t hear anything,” Rodney grumbled, ducking his head into the jacket.

That’s because your ears are full of ice,” John responded.

“As if I can help that,” Rodney complained. “I’m bound to get one hell of an… infection.” His voice sounded drunk and he leaned against Teyla again, thought better of it when the jacket stuck to her, and changed his position so that he was propped up on John.

If John minded, he didn’t show it. He cocked his head and listened.

The whine continued annoyingly.

“Thunder?” Sheppard asked. “Is that thunder?”

Ronon shrugged, shortening the movement as it must have caused him some pain.

Everything was growing dimmer around her.

“Just what we need,” Rodney complained, closing his eyes, his slurred voice becoming soft. “Rain would really improve my day.”

“I don’t think it’s thunder,” John stated. “No lightning, and it’s just going on for too long. Some sort of machine?”

Teyla frowned, trying to hear beyond the buzzing. She had to concentrate, to push through the sickness that was overtaking her – and then she could just make it out – a rolling roar, growing closer by the moment.

She looked to John, confused. He was sitting with Rodney against him. His head was turned toward the noise, listening, as Rodney shivered and shoved his hands deep into the jacket’s pockets. Seeing the question in her eyes, John said, “I have no idea.”

It was Ronon, his head bobbing, who provided the answers. “Squams,” he said thickly. “They probably smell the plants. Comin’ for dinner.” He waited a moment and then added, “Lots of them. They’re coming fast.”

Everything went gray. Rodney shouted something. Teyla blinked to clear the dimness in her vision and found her head in Rodney’s lap. She could make out a cloud in the distance – growing closer. Hundreds of starved squams were rushing across the plain toward the broken greenhouse, and their little group was in the way.

As she curled up against Rodney, Teyla heard John moan, “Just what we need -- a stampede.”

PART 7: YOU CAN'T ROLLER-SKATE  
Sheppard glanced to the building, and he considered that he might be able to cover the distance in time – maybe – if his foot didn't feel as if it were about to explode, but what about the others?

Ronon seemed stunned, dizzy as hell, and hardly able to hold a thought in his head. Teyla had twisted onto the ground, looking green and sick and unpleasantly oozy. Rodney was with her, clenching his arms to his body in a vain attempt to get warmer as he watched her worriedly.

They wouldn’t make it.

There was only one thing near them that could be used for protection.

“Ronon!” Sheppard shouted as he struggled to get to his feet.

The Satedan turned slowly, and uttered a languid, “Yeah?”

Sheppard sucked in a breath when he tried to put weight on his foot. “The door,” he stated as he hobbled toward it.

“Came off,” Ronon responded. “Boom!” He squinted and added, “Didn’t think it’d move that fast.”

“Help me!” Sheppard shouted.

The urgency in the order seemed to wake something in Ronon and he staggered to his feet, swaying dangerously. With a determined look, he followed Sheppard, staggering the short distance to the blasted door.

It was blackened along one edge, where massive hinges had once held it to the building. Several of the brackets had been completely melted off -- the last was twisted by the great force of the rushing water.

“Boom,” Ronon said again as he reached their destination.

“Help me stand it up,” Sheppard insisted. “We can use it as a shield. Hopefully the dumb animals will be smart enough to go around it.”

The thundering was getting louder. The ground shook. The cloud grew larger.

Sheppard worked his hands under the massive door and strained to lift it, but he just couldn’t budge it, and the strain on his painful foot nearly topped him. He growled out his frustration. It was a heavy son of a bitch! God, what he wouldn't do for some wheels right now!

Ronon seemed to realize the plan, and worked his hands under it, and heaved. The door lifted.

Grunting with the effort, Sheppard kept working, pushing at the metal door upright as the din rose. The door blocked his vision, but there was no doubting that the squams had nearly reached them.

With a mighty shove, Ronon forced his shoulder under the thing and lifted it enough so that Sheppard could get in under and add his own force until it was as upright as it'd ever be -- forming an adequate shield to protect them.

Sheppard glanced to the others. McKay's head was down and he hunched, watching Teyla. There was no point in trying to drag the door closer to the others -- it wasn't moving anywhere.

The bellowing of the creatures could be heard in the clatter of hundreds of hooves. The animals snorted and snuffled.

“Rodney!” Sheppard called as the thundering grew louder. “Get Teyla over here!” Rodney looked toward him, the movement lethargic. 

Damn it! This wasn't going to work! Sheppard strained to hold up the door and glanced to Ronon, beside him, wondering if the big man would be capable of holding up the heavy piece up on his own.

The distracted, disinterested look in the Satedan’s eyes disturbed Sheppard and he doubted that he could leave Ronon to do the task alone. “Rodney!” he shouted. “Get moving!”

The order wasn’t necessary. Rodney had struggled to his knees. He crawled, stiffly towing Teyla beside him. The Athosian gamely tried to help, but she was like rubber – in contrast to McKay’s wooden movements.

“Hurry!” Sheppard shouted as the noise increased. He could hear the high bleat of calves in the ruckus, the answering lows of the mothers, and a rattling bugling roar that was just plain disturbing.

He coughed as the dust came up, as the earth shook and the door teetered precariously beside him. The weight of it was driving him into the mud.

Rodney tugged at Teyla, who was trying to crawl with him. The sound of the approaching squams became deafening. "Get your ass moving, McKay!"

"What... what do you think I'm doing?" McKay sputtered, his voice almost unintelligible.

"You're not moving very fast!" Sheppard accused.

"It isn't easy!" McKay huffed, as he continued to crawl, pulling Teyla with him. He didn't stop trying, and gained distance.

The creatures were nearly upon them when Rodney and Teyla floundered into the shadow of the door.

Sheppard let out a breath in relief – and then the first of the squams shot past. It was a big sucker – moving like a locomotive. Ronon put his back against the door as more of the creatures streamed them – big hairy beasts, with huge heads, massive stout bodies, and thick Ronon-like dreadlocks that dragged the ground.

Sheppard kept his weight against the door, praying that it wouldn’t flatten them all into the mud, hoping that none of the squam attempted to run over the top of it.

The number of squams increased – ten, twenty, fifty – until they became too many too count. They swarmed around them, fast and dense, making it more than obvious that nothing would have survived if left in the open. Rodney said something, but his voice was eaten up in the cacophony.

Coughing against the dust and the thrown up mud, Sheppard jerked in surprise as one of the creatures banged into the side of the door. Its corded hair whipped against him before it tore off toward the greenhouse.

John found a better grip on the door, determined to not let it be ripped from his hands. The creatures continued to swipe at them, clattering against both sides of their protection. It was loud and scary as hell.

He didn’t know he was shouting until the great ocean of bovines thinned out. His throat was sore and his arms felt as if they’d been beaten, and his hurt leg barked with pain as he braced against the ground, but the frequency of collisions slowed until only a few of the squams passed them in the brown haze of dust.

He coughed again, hardly able to see. The others were coughing too – a good sign. It meant that they were all still alive.

They’d survived in the middle of a stampede of space buffalo, and he laughed a little, remembering a song about rollerskating.

A few stragglers were hustling along. Not far away, he could hear the shattering of glass, metal rendered – and the unmistakable sound of feasting.

Near him, Ronon made a satisfied “heh,” as plants met the fate they so richly deserved.

Ronon was still braced against the door, looking like a portrait of Atlas. Rodney was also leaning against the door, doing what he could to keep it from crushing them. Teyla was curled up on McKay. Both were shivering, but for different reasons.

The door lurched a little as Sheppard fought to keep his end up. 

“Rodney,” he said softly. “You think you can move her out of here? This thing is getting kinda heavy.”

Rodney met his eyes and seemed to think about it a moment. “Okay,” he finally decided. Moving with that same stiff manner, he tried to get Teyla off of himself so that he could get them both clear – but had little success. He just couldn’t move well enough.

“I can manage,” Ronon said after a moment, giving Sheppard a meaningful look.

Not needing to be told twice, Sheppard released his hold on the door. It tilted precariously for a moment, but Ronon spread out one arm – caught it – and balanced it.

Groaning as pain shot through his leg, Sheppard repositioned himself and helped Rodney to shove Teyla out from under the door. She hardly responded to them. Once they were clear, Ronon rolled out, letting the door fall with a solid WHUMP.

The four of them remained where they’d ended up, flat on their backs. For a moment, they just breathed.

Finally, because someone had to, Sheppard sat up to survey the area. The greenhouse was utterly destroyed. Some of the squams mobbed the structure. Others – looking frustrated – stood nearby. They’d been too late to the buffet. Everywhere, the ground was torn up by their passing.

He regarded each of his teammates. Ronon, looking sore and tired, blinked blankly at the sky. His wounds were bleeding from his earlier encounter with the plant, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Teyla was holding her stomach as if it pained her. The greenish goo had picked up enough dirt to completely coat her in a filthy layer. She moaned softly, and turned her head away from them.

Rodney had managed to sit up. He shivered violently as he hunched. His dirt encrusted hair was standing up at weird angles, and he was daubed with mud and plant goo from Teyla.

And Sheppard looked at his foot, really looking at it for the first time. Something was definitely wrong with it, but he wasn’t willing to do anything just yet. The bleeding seemed to be under control, and he didn’t want to take off his boot because he feared that maybe it was the only thing holding his foot together at the moment. It hurt, ached, throbbed and shot electric spikes of pain through his leg.

God, they were a pathetic bunch.

He let out a low sigh as the squams’ munching slowed, and he began to wonder what they would do when the food ran out.

He had to get his team out of here before things got any worse. They had to get back to Atlantis. He glanced to Rodney, who continued to shiver relentlessly, and knew that the scientist was the only one among them who might stand a chance on his feet.

Rodney sneezed and moaned as he huddled deeper into his coat. “This really sucks,” he said thickly. “I’m cold.”

“I got an idea on something that’ll warm you up,” Sheppard stated.

“Dry pants?” McKay said hopefully. “Dry socks? Because, wet socks are death cloths. Someone told me that once. Wet socks will kill you faster than anything.”

The squams were dispersing, but the promise of full bellies hadn’t been fulfilled, and they were snorting and butting into each other as they moved away from the leveled, empty greenhouse. The herd broke into smaller groups -- little herds within the massive bunch.

“A good hearty walk will do you good,” Sheppard tried.

McKay gave Sheppard the skunk eye.

“The Gate isn't that far,” Sheppard told him.

“You want me to walk?” Rodney squawked. “I can hardly move!”

“It’ll be good for you,” Sheppard told him.

“Yeah,” McKay groused. “Just because YOU don’t want to.”

“Someone needs to reach Atlantis and tell them what happened. Send out a jumper. The rest of us are going to need a lift.” And he gestured to his foot.

Rodney sighed, focusing on the blood-stained pant leg, and then glanced to Teyla and Ronon. Neither had really moved since the door was dropped.

“Yeah,” Rodney said uncertainly, “I could do that.” But he was still shaking and Sheppard really wondered if this was the right idea.

McKay struggled to stand. Sheppard offered him a hand.

“I’m up!” McKay announced. “I’m up!” as he tottered.

“Up,” Ronon echoed, still blinking at the sky.

Rodney stood, hunched and stiff and looking miserable and he let out a slow sigh. “I’m going to start moving,” he announced.

“Now would be good,” Sheppard told him.

The squams continued to make a ruckus at the destroyed greenhouse. Some didn’t look very happy as they fought over the remaining green growth. They started fanning out, stomping and snorting and threatening each other as they searched.

“Okay, I’m going,” McKay announced.

“See ya,” Ronon told him as he blinked.

A group of squams snuffled at the air, turning about slowly.

McKay took a step. “One foot in front of the other,” he stated. “Really, I can do this.”

The group headed in their direction, their massive heads raised as they followed their noses.

Sheppard glanced to Teyla, who made a little moan.

“Crap,” Sheppard muttered and picked up his P90.

Rodney groused out, “I’m really trying! My legs just don’t want to work. Okay, look, I’m moving!” And he took two robotic steps.

“Stay put!” Sheppard ordered.

“What? Why?” McKay responded.

“Where’s your weapon?” the colonel demanded to know.

“I don’t know. I lost it when I got flushed out of the giant toilet!” McKay snapped back. "I lost my pack too. Who knows where it all went."

“Get Teyla’s P90… or Ronon’s blaster,” Sheppard stated without looking at him.

“I’m using mine,” Ronon proclaimed from behind him. Sheppard threw him a quick glance. The Satedan was sitting up, looking relatively alert, watching the approaching animals.

“Teyla’s weapon is covered with crap,” Rodney complained. “And she might have puked on it.”

“Rodney! Get the weapon!”

Sheppard kept his gaze on the squams that bleated and bawled at each other as they moved toward them. They weren’t stampeding, rather, they were deliberately following their noses to the only remaining scent of green plants.

McKay seemed to realize what was going on and sank down beside Teyla with an uncomfortable sounding moan. Sheppard heard him fiddling around to get Teyla’s gun. “No puke on it! Crap, I can’t get my hand around the clip. Dang it! My fingers can hardly move. I can’t get the thing to release.” There was a click and a triumphant, “I got it!”

“Good for you,” Sheppard stated.

The squams kept getting closer. They were unsure – obviously confused—and they skittered about as they searched for the source of the scent. They spread out.

Other squams, outside of this group, battered their way into the other building, some skirted it – going around the backside and following the edge of the lake toward the river. As Sheppard glanced about, he noted a few had made their way on top of the dam.

The nearest group of squams kept coming in their direction. They were being surrounded.

“No puke,” McKay said again, sounding less enthusiastic as he held the gun up to aim it. It shook.

“Great,” Sheppard murmured. He heartily trusted Ronon’s aim in most circumstances, but the Satedan’s wobbly behavior didn’t bode well. Ronon held up his blaster, blinked, lowered the weapon and then held it up again – looking frustrated and confused.

Rodney’s arms trembled and he glanced toward Sheppard.

“Fantastic,” Sheppard sighed.

The three of them made a small circle around Teyla as the squams circled around them. They were huge animals – any one of them capable of crushing them all to death for a chance to lick green slime off Teyla, and then maybe use Rodney for dessert.

“Freakin’ great,” Sheppard muttered as they grew closer.

The creatures stomped their cloven hoof feet, making loud THUMP, like a drumbeat. Their long corded hair, like puli dogs, dragged the ground and they wavered back and forth. Dumb eyes fixed on Teyla.

Sheppard let out a sigh. They had no escape route. If the creatures became aggressive, he might need to fire on them. Then, what would happen? Would the creatures be scared off? Would the other squams charge in? How many bullets would it take to down a buffalo this big? How long would it take one to go down?

He had a bad feeling that there’d be no stopping them.

The creatures snorted and snot dripped from their big nostrils. Sheppard could smell the stink coming from their matted fur.

“This is bad,” Rodney said softly.

“Yeah,” Sheppard said with a sigh. “I have to agree with you.”

Ronon just grunted.

And the squams drew closer.  
PART 8: WHERE SELDOM IS HEARD A DISCOURAGING WORD

“God, they stink,” Rodney muttered as he valiantly tried to keep his weapon trained on the creature closest to him. His arms kept dipping and he had to work to aim. “I thought Teyla stank up the place, but these guys have her beat. And I kinda doubt that my nose is working very well right now.” He ran a sleeve under his nose and pulled the arm back quickly in disgust. “Ugh, she’s got her juice all over me! The weapon’s covered with it, too. I don’t know if it’ll even work.”

“Just keep quiet, Rodney,” Sheppard said evenly. “Try to keep the shouting and thrashing about to a minimum. We don’t want to startle these things.”

About a dozen of creatures trotted nearer, forming a loose circle around them. The huge creatures continued to snorfle and grunt. They shifted their massive weight as they regarded the humans.

“Maybe they’ll just wander off and leave us alone,” John contemplated as their group rearranged so that their backs were to each other with Teyla in the center.

“You know our luck,” Rodney muttered. “Fat chance of that happening.”

Beside him, Ronon was trying to keep his head up, but he was deflating. Dex was failing. Teyla looked sick as hell. McKay was still shaking. Sheppard’s foot was barking with pain. They needed a doctor. They needed a team of doctors. They needed Atlantis.

They needed to get off this planet – away from its insane buildings, its people-eating plants and its plant-eating creatures (that hopefully didn’t also eat people).

“Shep -- pard,” McKay hissed.

The colonel turned slightly, watching as the squam nearest McKay edged forward. The squam was gigantic, bigger than all the others. Its corded pelt didn’t hide the fact that it was (quite obviously) a male – the bull – the leader of this small herd.

Wicked-looking cornucopia horns curled from the top of what was the biggest head that Sheppard had ever seen. He’d been in cockpits with less elbowroom than that skull.

“Sheppard?” McKay repeated.

“Easy, Rodney,” Sheppard whispered. “We’re all friends still.”

“You saw what they did to that greenhouse,” McKay returned. “They ripped that place to pieces to get at the plants, and Teyla got her plant spooge all over me.” 

“Quiet,” Sheppard responded, as he looked toward the other squams. The ‘girls’ stood watching, waiting, their fringed fur dragging. 

Apparently Rodney was the lucky one. The big bull snorted up the snot that dripped from its huge nose, edging closer to McKay.

“Must everything on this planet be this gross?” McKay whined.

“Just keep still,” Sheppard told him.

“I’m trying,” Rodney said between his teeth. “Kinda hard when I’m shaking.”

Sheppard looked over his shoulder to see the big squam shuffle in closer, its nose nearly touching the end of Rodney’s P90. Ronon, Sheppard noticed, was sitting up a little, his attention was on the Rastafarian bison.

The big creature snorted loudly as it sniffed at the weapon’s muzzle. And it took a step closer.

Ronon raised his blaster, trying to keep it aimed at the beast’s big head as Rodney did his best to keep still while the thing examined his gun.

The stink of the thing was almost overpowering, and McKay crinkled up his face in disgust. “Oh God,” he gasped out. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Don’t!” Sheppard ordered.

It sniffed again, blinked, and then opened its mouth.

Rodney audibly sucked in his breath as the bison’s huge reddish-brown tongue came out to wrap around the end of the goo-covered gun. The tongue retreated and the squam licked its lips. It seemed pleased, and tried it again, lapping at the P90’s muzzle.

“Great,” McKay muttered as he fought to hold onto the P90 while the big creature worked at getting the plant’s residue from end of the weapon. Once it had accomplished that, it stepped forward with a loud THUMP THUMP to work its way closer to Rodney.

Ronon sat up taller.

“Oh God,” Rodney moaned. “Oh God, oh God.”

“Steady, McKay,” Sheppard said between the teeth. “It’s just after the goo.”

“This is so revolting,” McKay hissed as the thing licked nosily. “It’s getting spit all over everything.”

“Keep still,” Sheppard continued, keeping his voice as even as possible. He looked to the squams nearest him. They shuffled, edging the circle closer. The girls wanted a chance, too, and their eyes were on Teyla.

“So gross. He’ll stop soon, right?” McKay tried, hopefully.

“Just let it do what it wants to do. If we’re lucky, he’ll realize you’re not very tasty and move on.”

“I’m not tasty. I’m not tasty. I’m SO not tasty,” Rodney chanted. “Oh God, it’s licking my hands. Seriously, I’m NOT tasty!” His voice snapped.

The creature grunted and stamped loudly in response.

“Sorry! Sorry! So sorry!” McKay apologized. “Sure, lap up all you want.” He twisted his arm to ensure the thing had good access. “Have a smorgasbord of plant juice. I don’t mind the spit -- even though it stinks worse than you do. Gah, it’s so slimy. Don’t bite me, okay?”

Some of the cows had pushed their way closer to the Athosian, their nostrils flaring at the scent of her. Ronon had readjusted his position to protect Teyla.

John was doing his best to create a barricade to the rest of them. He glanced toward Rodney again. The bull seemed rather harmless, and wasn’t hurting Rodney. One squam, they could handle. If the rest of the group wanted in, there’d be trouble.

Sheppard wondered if it would best to just let them in to clean up their crew. It would probably be the best way to get rid of them, but his gut told him that it was a bad idea. And he pressed closer to Teyla.

The bull had its head nearly pressed to Rodney’s chest as it licked at his hands and arms. It was intent on finding the last of the plant remains, and its eyes had taken on an unfocused look. It hardly seemed aware of anything around it.

And it looked as if Rodney was trying his best not to laugh.

“It feels so weird,” Rodney uttered as it lapped at his fingers. “It… tickles.” He snickered and then pressed his mouth shut, trying not to giggle as he offered a quiet, “Stop it… come on, stop it.”

The squam drew back his head from Rodney’s hands. It smacked its mouth and let its tongue hang from its mouth. It panted. Its eyes looked far away.

“You know, he’s kinda cute in his foul, gigantic way,” McKay commented.

Tbe squam wobbled.

“Quiet, Rodney,” Sheppard stated. There was something wrong. Not that everything about this mission wasn’t already wrong – but it was very obvious that things were not going to be getting any better at the moment.

He had a very bad feeling. “Keep cool, Rodney,” Sheppard said in a low voice as the bison waggled its head back and forth.

“Cool? Now that you say it, I can finally feel my hands. I think I’m warming up.” McKay moved one hand, letting go of the P90 to wipe the squam spit on his pants. “Now, if I can just get some dry pants.”

The squam snorted again, and its head came to a slow stop. Its eyes narrowed.

Rodney smiled and said happily, “He’s kinda sweet. Hey there, boy, you’re not so…”

The squam brought his head up sharply, smacking Rodney soundly on the chin with a POP. Thrown back by the violence of the movement, Rodney's arms flew from his sides and his P90 was pitched.

Before either Sheppard or Ronon could react, the squam grabbed McKay, its big square teeth sinking into the fabric of the borrowed jacket. It flung him with one easy toss of its head.

Rodney let out a frightened yelp as he was airborne, and he impacted with a THUD into the ground a few meters away. 

He rolled in a furious tumble, landing in a heap.

Ronon made a move to lunge after the squam, but faltered and fell to his butt. The growled order of “Stop!” from Sheppard stilled him.

The bull bellowed, throwing back his head and making a sound that was a cross between an elk’s bugle and a freight train whistle. It stomped and snorted and roared as it turned in a tight circle.

“Don’t move!” Sheppard ordered keeping his weapon trained on the creature. “Don’t move! Rodney, don’t move!”

Ronon glowered, but remained in place. Rodney hadn’t moved, and Sheppard didn’t know if that was a good thing or a very, very bad thing.

The bull kept up its trumpeting and it slow spin. Its mouth stayed open, its tongue lolling. It shook its head, and its eyes seemed to widen until you could see slivers of white with the blackness.

His harem backed away, spooked.

Ronon and Sheppard drew Teyla between them. As they aimed at the bull, they kept a careful eye on Rodney. The scientist remained where he had fallen -- too still.

The bull kept circling, a slow confused-looking pirouette, drawing away from their group. Its legs made stiff movements. It panted. Sheppard kept the creature in his sights. If that thing made one move toward Rodney…

And the bull finally stopped its machinations. Its tail made a little flip. Its big head lowered. Its legs shook. Its knees bent and, with a grunt, it folded to the ground.

It breathed, taking in huge draughts of air. Its mouth frothed.

The rest of his herd continued to back away. Suddenly, almost as one, the group of females turned and beat a hasty retreat, running from the site as if terrified, cleanly avoiding the people huddled on the ground.

As soon as the squams fled, Sheppard moved. He left Teyla to Ronon’s care as he flopped to where Rodney had fallen.

“Rodney?” Sheppard called anxiously. McKay didn’t move. He called again, his voice strident, “Rodney! Answer me!” Sheppard’s heart raced as he closed the distance.

“Rodney” Sheppard called again as he hovered over the downed scientist. “Come on…” he whispered, and gently shook his shoulder.

Rodney’s eyes opened in a flash and he let out a pathetic whine of pain.

“Sorry,” Sheppard responded, as he searched for the source of the hurt.

“What the hell was that?” the scientist asked hoarsely.

“Guess you were right,” Sheppard told him. “The buffalo thought you weren’t very tasty.”

“Bison,” McKay murmured. “It’s a bison.”

“Can you move?” Sheppard asked tentatively.

McKay gave him an unhappy look and rolled onto his back with a gasp. “Ow! Oh… ow!”

“Bad?” Sheppard asked.

“Of course it’s bad! I must have flown 50 feet. What the hell?”

“More like ten,” Sheppard told him.

“Far enough to do some serious and permanent damage!” McKay he ran a hand across his face. Immediately, he jerked back his arm and screwed up his expression with disgust. "Ugh! I just got some of his spit on my mouth! Gah!" He held the disgusting hand over his head for a moment, then turned his head and made pathetic spitting sounds.

“You okay?”

“No! You expect me to be okay after that? It threw me! And I got bison spit on my mouth!” Rodney tried to roll over, but stopped abruptly. “Ow… ow… I think I broke something,” he gasped.

“Welcome to the club.”

“Seriously, I think maybe… Ow… yeah, definitely. My arm! OW! Oh crap.” He wheezed at the attempt to move his other arm.

“Stop trying to move it,” Sheppard ordered, laying a hand on him.

Rodney was breathing harshly, and his already pale face was now pinched with pain. “Oh Jeez, this sucks,” he panted, as Sheppard looked him over, trying to see if anything else was visibly wrong with him.

“You ruined my jacket,” Sheppard said when he saw the ripped collar and the general condition of the thing.

“Wasn’t my fault,” McKay returned sharply.

“Never is,” Ronon returned from his place beside Teyla.

Rodney furrowed his brow at the comment and was about to say something when he turned his head toward the gasping squam. “It could've eaten me!” he proclaimed. “That giant devil-bison-thing could have ground me in between its teeth and killed me dead, or could have tossed me about until I was nothing but confetti.”

The squam head lolled to the side as its breathing became more pronounced.

“I think you poisoned the giant devil-buffalo thing,” Sheppard said, trying to get comfortable, but giving up almost immediately with a hiss of pain.

Rodney blinked at the creature, listening to how the thing struggled to breathe, and then asked anxiously, “Teyla? Is she…?”

Ronon was lazily picking at the twigs and dried grass that clung to her, trying to slough off some of the gunk. Teyla didn’t move.

Sheppard sighed, watching the procedure. “She’s not looking too good,” he said. He looked about at the hairy creatures that dotted the plain. Most still moved about, but many were on the ground. “Looks like a lot of the squams are having problems,” he said.

“Must affect humans differently than squams,” Rodney said quietly. “Because, I know Teyla is strong, but….whoa…”

“Well, she’s not getting any better,” Sheppard told him, watching Ronon, noting Teyla’s absolute stillness – the only movement was her steady breathing. “We have to get help.”

McKay closed his eyes and let out a miserable sigh. “I know. I just… I don’t know if I can get to the Gate now. I’m not kidding about my arm. My hip is killing me. I got some of that goo on me too, and if it’s poison, I don’t know if I can…” And he grunted as he worked to force himself upright. He made a little cry as he finally succeeded in sitting up, holding onto his arm and panting in pain. “And this bison snot really stinks. I don’t think I’ll ever get all of it off my skin.”

The bottom half of Rodney’s face was darkening with a bruise from where the squam had hit him, and Sheppard had no doubts that Rodney would be feeling his landing for some time.

Rodney looked at the bison, watching it with a concerned expression. For a minute, they were all quiet – the only sound was the labored panting of the creature.

There was no doubt about it. They needed to get Teyla home, now.

Rodney said morosely, “I’ll go. Just give me a minute. I just...” He let out a breath and admitted honestly. “There’s still a lot of those squams around. I’m not sure if they’ll try to get at me again. I’m just not sure I can make it all the way alone.”

Sheppard sighed and then nodded sharply. With a groan and a grunt, Sheppard started the painful journey to his feet. He shoved down on Rodney’s good shoulder, making him gasp, but after some shuffling and nearly tipping over, he found his balance on one foot.

He offered a hand to Rodney, who looked at him in surprise for a moment before he accepted the help.

“You know, my pants are still wet – and cold,” Rodney reminded.

“Yeah, I know,” Sheppard replied.

“They chaffing is going to be… well, I don’t even want to think about it,” Rodney said with a sigh.

“Not much I can do about that,” Sheppard said with a groan as he helped tug Rodney to his feet. Together they staggered. “Ronon?”

“Yeah,” the Satedan said drunkenly.

Sheppard regarded the big man who blinked and didn’t seem entirely with them.

“Keep an eye on Teyla,” Sheppard ordered.

“Okay,” Ronon returned, and displayed his blaster.

He didn’t want to leave either of them, but Sheppard knew that they had to try for the Gate. The other squams were keeping their distance. Perhaps they realized the danger in the plants and were dispersing, getting away from source of trouble.

He took a skittering step, hissing out a breath as he tried to put weight on his foot. Rodney wavered on his feet, muttering and trying to psych himself up for the walk. Yeah, they were a great pair.

Neither of them should be going anywhere.

“Ready?” Sheppard asked.

McKay didn’t look ready. “Yeah,” he murmured.

And with that, Sheppard grasped his hand over Rodney’s cold shoulder and together they started moving, leaning on each other as they hobbled toward the Stargate.  
PART 9: COMFORTABLE

They limped, slowly, painfully toward home, leaving the others behind, not knowing if they’d even make it -- not knowing if they’d ever see their companions alive again.

They moved past squams. Many were heading away, minding their own business. Some watched them lazily. Some frisked about, seeming to play -- maybe high on the toxins. Others were flopped on the ground – panting and maybe dying.

God, Sheppard thought, was this the stupidest thing he’d ever done? Leaving Ronon and Teyla? The poison was seriously affecting the squams that ate the plants. What was it doing to Teyla? Ronon’s head injury was disturbing – and although he hadn’t been submerged in that tank, his wet clothing wasn’t doing him any favors on this cool day.

Sheppard hurried the pace, getting a groan from Rodney when he leaned more weight on him.

“How much further is it?” McKay asked.

“Shouldn’t take too much longer. I think we’ve made it about halfway,” Sheppard lied.

Rodney squinted at the Gate and sighed. “This is going to take forever. Ow!” He hissed and stumbled a little, and Sheppard fought for his balance as his crutch contracted. “God, my arm hurts,” Rodney said in a low whine voice. “I ache all over and it really hurts to move my leg… ow. I really don’t feel good.”

“Then, let’s get back to Atlantis. Keller will fix you right up.”

“Yeah… I just,” McKay paused, sucking his breath. “I think I just need to rest a bit, okay?”

Sheppard closed his eyes, knowing that in normal situations, Rodney was asking for nothing outrageous. His already pale skin was taking on a totally unhealthy hue. And Sheppard could still feel the chill through the coat. The man was sick and in pain. He deserved to be a little more comfortable.

“If this was about just you and me, I’d have no problem with that,” Shepard told him. “We don’t know what’s going on with Ronon and Teyla right now. We don’t know how much time she has.”

Rodney said nothing, letting his head dip. “Yes. Yes. I’m… sorry.” And he stood a little taller, waited for John to catch his balance. And they trod onward – leaning on each other.

Time dragged. They stepped toward the Gate that didn’t seem to be getting any closer. John’s world became a haze of pain as he tried to keep weight off his foot, as each step shot agony through his leg, as he clutched at Rodney’s shoulder, as they propelled themselves onward.

They’d make it. Come hell or high water, they’d reach the Gate.

They passed fewer squams as they advanced. The survivors must have already moved on – the sick ones couldn’t get this far. Sheppard fought the urge to turn around and survey the land behind them, but he knew that such a turn would be disastrous. Sheppard corrected their path as Rodney veered to one side, and they put everything they had into forward motion.

One step, another step, another step. Keep moving. God, he hurt. What he wouldn’t do for a cozy Adirondack chair on the pier and a cold frosty one.

John glanced to Rodney, seeing the way McKay gritted his teeth, holding his face so tight that it was all sharp angles of pain. Rodney didn’t even seem to notice that he was being observed as such close quarters – he was just moving forward – his eyes focused on the Gate.

At least Rodney wasn’t shaking any longer, but he wasn’t talking, and that just wasn’t like Rodney McKay. Rodney wobbled in the wrong direction for a while, and Sheppard drew them back on target. And now, he was slowing.

It wasn’t until that moment that Sheppard really realized how much he was depending on McKay. The scientist was pulling most of their weight – and if McKay were to falter…

“A man walks into a bar with this massive shotgun and a male buffalo,” John started.

“What?” Rodney responded dully.

“A man walks into a bar,” Sheppard repeated. “It’s a standard set up for a joke. I’m telling a joke.”

“Oh,” Rodney replied. “Okay.”

“He says to the bartender, ‘Give me some coffee’,” Sheppard went on. “The bartender gives him some coffee. The guy drinks it, then he turns and shoots the buffalo. Buffalo parts go flying. Blood, guts, prime rib, rump roast, everything. Splatters everything.”

“That was some gun,” McKay said, hissing as Sheppard pressed on him.

“Like I said, it was big.”

“I mean, to blow apart a big animal like that. That’d take some…serious firepower. I’m not even sure that Ronon’s blaster can do that. The physics of it…”

“It was a really, really big shotgun! Accept it!"

"I'm just sayin..."

"So, the guy walks out before the bartender can figure out what to say. Next morning, the man returns with another buffalo.”

“He’s got an endless supply?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Where’s he keep them?”

“In his back forty. How should I know?”

“You’re the one telling the story. You should know these things.”

“No, I don’t. It’s a joke. Nobody needs to know these things. Only you ask questions like that.”

“It’s a legitimate question. If a guy walks into a bar every day with a different bison, I’d want to know where he’s getting them. And what sort of heath violations is he causing by bringing it in there, and why is a guy going into a bar for coffee when he should be in a café or something.”

“The guy comes back to the bar with another male buffalo. He walks up to the bartender and says, ‘Give me some coffee’.”

“Is this going to take a while? Because if it’s going to keep repeating like this….”

“Will you just let me tell the joke? The only reason it’s taking so long is because you keep interrupting me.”

“I just don’t believe you’re telling the joke right.”

“The guy asks for coffee and the bartender says, ‘No way! We’re still cleaning up the mess from yesterday. What the hell was that all about, anyways?’ The guy says, ‘I’m running for Congress. I’m training to come in, drink coffee, shoot the bull, disappear and leave a mess for others to clean up’.”

They plodded onward.

Finally, Rodney asked disdainfully, “That was the joke?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“Not very funny.”

“Well, you’re not American, so it probably went over your head.”

Silence for a moment as Rodney fumed then, “Any nationality would be able to tell you that was a bad joke. It hardly made sense?”

“It was funny.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was horrible. And it wasn’t just due to the poor joke teller.”

“Maybe the person who kept interrupting the joke teller is at fault? You ruined my delivery.”

“Not my fault. It was truly awful. Did someone email that one to you? Because, you know, you don’t need to forward every dumb joke that ends up in your in-basket, and you definitely don’t need to repeat them.”

“What did mama buffalo say when her youngest went off to college?” Sheppard asked.

McKay sighed.

"Bison." He paused and then repeated, "Bye, son… get it?"

McKay scowled and they walked a little faster. “Those are the worst…”

“What do you call it when a male buffalo eats explosives?” Sheppard asked. When McKay didn’t respond, he repeated the question. “What do you call it when a male buffalo eats explosives?”

“I don’t care!” McKay replied.

“Abominable!”

Rodney glared at him.

“A bomb... in a bull,” Sheppard explained.

“Your jokes are abominable,” McKay’s frown only deepened as he kept moving toward the Gate.

“That’s because you didn’t get it.”

“I may be bruised and broken, but, I’m not an idiot,” McKay complained. “It was just a very stupid joke. Puns are the lowest form of humor.”

“What do you call that buffalo after the bomb goes off?” Sheppard continued, grinning tightly against the pain in his foot. “Noble!” he stated before McKay could stop him.

“Awful. Most inane jokes of all time! You should win an award for bad joke telling.”

“Yes, yes I should – the Noble Prize, right?”

Rodney groaned. “Maybe the Bulwer-Lytton prize.”

“What’s that?”

“Nevermind. Just keep… moving.”

“Yeah, it’s high time we shuffled off to Buffalo.”

Rodney grumbled and they walked, covering the distance to the Gate. The pain in his leg had taken over most of John’s world. He had to put all his focus into moving forward, and keeping Rodney steered toward the Gate.

“More to the left,” Sheppard stated.

“What?”

“We’re drifting. You walk about as straight as you steer a jumper.”

“If you weren’t pulling me off balance, I wouldn’t be having a problem,” McKay bit back, and brought them back on course.

Sheppard kept moving. Kept moving because he had to make it back to the Stargate, had to make it back to Atlantis. They needed to get help for Teyla, and for Ronon, too.

He forced his leg to take a stride, gripping tightly to Rodney’s shoulder, sucking in a breath with each movement. Ow!

Maybe they could stop for a moment or two, to rest. Maybe a rest wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. He kept correcting Rodney’s path, getting them steered back toward the Gate, and Rodney kept pulling them forward. But, they were slowing again. He realized his breath was heaving and that Rodney was gamely trying to use his good arm to hold him up.

It was too slow. They’d never make it to the Gate at this rate. And Teyla and Ronon were still waiting for help. He had to get Rodney to leave him behind. It was the only smart decision. It would definitely be better for both of them.

He could get comfortable, get the weight off his foot – relax. Rodney would move faster without him. It was the smartest thing to do.

Sheppard corrected their direction, as he forced his leg forward one more time. “Rodney…” he started.

“Okay, so there’s these two sisters,” McKay said, gasping with the effort of keeping Sheppard moving. “They own this ranch… and they need to buy a bull.”

“Bull joke?” Sheppard asked.

“Yeah, so kill me,” McKay muttered.

“Is it a pun?”

“Shut up. So, one’s clever and the other, not so much.”

“The bulls?” Sheppard jibed to keep himself interested.

“The sisters!” Rodney snapped. “The clever sister takes the bus to the next town… to buy a bull. If she can strike a good price, she’ll wire the not-so-clever sister and let her know to come out with the truck and trailer to pick it up.” His words came out in a rush and Sheppard had to concentrate to understand him. Rodney wheezed once he finished speaking.

“Is this a ‘dumb blonde’ joke?” Sheppard asked during the pause. His head was getting too heavy to hold up, so he leaned it against Rodney.

“I didn’t say anything about hair color. I said that sister was clever and one was not-so-clever.” McKay moved onward, gasping as he let his hurt arm dangle while he did what he could to hold Sheppard upright. He stumbled, and fought for his balance.

“I think I’ve heard this before,” Sheppard told him as he tried to help. It took a long time for Rodney to get fully upright again. “Yeah, I heard it years ago. Except they were brunette and blonde.”

McKay snorted. “Not all blondes are complete airheads, so.…” He sighed. “Fine. You’ve heard the joke before, so no sense in me going on. Forget it.”

And their pace picked up a little as Rodney stormed forward, dragging Sheppard along. He was wobbling further off course with each step.

John winced as he tried to keep up. But he had to keep up. Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep correcting Rodney and get them back to the Gate.

“Rodney,” Sheppard said, “I forgot how it ends, so… you know… tell me the rest of it.”

McKay just set his jaw. For a moment, Sheppard thought he was going to blow him off, but instead, Rodney sighed and said, “Okay, so where was I?”

“Brunette goes to get the bull,” Sheppard filled in. “Blonde stayed at home.”

“Right, the clever sister was going to… check out this bull to see if they could afford it.” His voice sounded tight, strained, as if he was struggling even to speak. “And, well it’s a good bull. The rancher is willing to sell, but he takes just about every dollar they have. She has to wire her sister to let her know.”

They kept moving. The Gate was getting bigger with each step. Sheppard corrected their path again.

“So she gets to the telegraph office. She only has a dollar left, and it costs a dollar for each word that she wires. So she thinks a minute and tells the telegraph operator to send one word – ‘comfortable’,” McKay explained. “The telegraph operator questions whether the other sister will understand what that means, because apparently he knows the girl, and knows she isn’t too bright.”

Sheppard struggled to keep going. “He knows the girl?”

“Everyone knows that girl,” McKay responded.

Sheppard laughed a little.

McKay went on, “So the clever girl says, ‘Just put down 'comfortable'. She’ll read it slow.” They strode on a few more paces in silence as Sheppard waited.

Finally, McKay illuminated, “Come-for-the-bull.”

“Rodney? A pun?” Sheppard laughed softly at that, a quiet snicker of a sound. He was in pain and tired as hell, so the stupidity of the joke caught him unaware. They kept walking and he laughed. His breath came in gasps as he put weight on his foot, as he kept stepping.

“You can stop now,” McKay said, his voice sounding faint and exhausted.

“Yeah, wasn’t that funny,” Sheppard responded, fighting for his breath.

“That’s obvious. But you can stop walking. We’re here.”

And Sheppard lifted his head in disbelief to see the DHD and the Gate just in front of him. He laughed again and kept moving toward their goal, pulling Rodney along with him. Finally, he lifted his arm from McKay’s shoulder and leaned all his weight on the comfortable height of the DHD. He laughed out of relief to have finally reached their destination, to find help, to know that home was within their grasp.

He was reaching to dial the first chevron when Rodney collapsed beside him.  
PART 10: OH, GIVE ME A HOME  
Ronon sat.

Ronon sat and waited.

Ronon sat with one hand on Teyla and waited.

He glanced to her, squinting as he tried to see her clearly.

Teyla was still alive. That was good. She hadn’t moved, but she breathed.

He lifted his head to look in the direction where Sheppard and McKay had disappeared. He blinked, trying to clear his head. No luck.

He hoped they made it.

He knew that he should be aggravated. He knew that he should be frustrated and annoyed. He knew that he should have fought his way to his feet and he should have been the one who accompanied McKay to the Gate.

He could have gone without McKay. Could have gone alone. He knew, as he sat with one hand on Teyla and waited, he knew that he should be angry with himself.

But he was remarkably calm as he gazed out into a haze, with just one task – to keep an eye on Teyla. But since he couldn’t see her clearly, he kept track of her with one hand, feeling that she was still warm, that she still breathed.

Teyla moved slightly, turning her head and moaning.

He probably should say something to her, say something reassuring, but his jaw just wasn’t working. So he kept one hand on her and continued his vigil.

She was still living. She wasn’t getting any sicker. That was good.

The squams hadn’t come closer again. That was good. The one that collapsed near them had stopped breathing.

He waited. His head hurt. His chest hurt, too.

He wanted to get home – back to Atlantis.

Something happened.

There was noise and something large appeared and he blinked at the large thing. Things started moving around him.

A faces appeared. He should have reacted. He didn’t. He just watched the faces. Someone asked him questions. He didn’t answer. People were moving around him and kept asking questions.

Someone was touching him, prodding him. “Teyla,” he said feeling as if his tongue was too thick to talk. “Plant tried to eat her.” It was getting hard to say so many words when all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep for a while. “Poisoned.”

His head hurt. His head hurt a lot.

Someone said something, but the air around him seemed to be growing thicker.

“Sheppard?” he asked. “McKay?”

The same person said a long sentence, and somehow he was lying down, and suddenly he was moving.

He let his eyes close for a moment, and when he opened them again, he was in the jumper.

Things were suddenly a little clearer, and he recognized Dr. Biro beside him.

“Hello, Ronon,” she said as she fiddled with the IV. “Oh, it’s so good to see your eyes open. It’s a good sign. We’re going to get you home in a jiffy. You’ll be feeling a lot better soon.”

“Yeah,” he returned. He tried to sit up, but that wasn’t a good idea. He glanced up at the IV and figured that was part of the reason his head felt a little clearer. “Teyla?”

Biro moved to the other side of the jumper to tend to the Athosian. “She’s stable right now and we want to keep it that way.”

“Poisoned,” Ronon stated. “By that plant. Stuff’s all over her.”

Biro nodded. “We have a pretty good sized sample of the residue on her clothing.” She gestured to the pile on the floor. “We’ll see what we find out when we reach Atlantis, okay? Until then, you rest. She’s doing fine.”

She cocked her head at him and said, “You did a number on yourself. I’m going to need to do some needlework.” And she smiled as if she made a joke. “And your hair. Oh, dearie, that must have been painful,” she said as she swiped a hand over the bald patch.

Ronon just grumbled.

Biro went on, “We’re going to have to get you out of that wet coat. Did you really stand in front of the door to a water tank that was about to bust open?”

“Sheppard? McKay?” She must have talked to them if she knew that much.

Biro smiled a little. “Dr. Keller brought a team out on foot to take them through the Gate. I don’t know a whole lot about their situation, but Sheppard was talking at least. McKay was unconscious, not responsive.”

Ronon frowned, feeling that frustration finally – he should have been the one to walk to the Gate.

Biro reached across the aisle to pat him, as one might console a worried child. “It’s going to be okay. Now, get ready. We’re taking off.”

Ronon closed his eyes because his head really hurt, and now that Teyla was safe, and McKay and Sheppard were home, he could think about sleep. He heard the slight change in sound that told him the jumper had risen from the ground.

“Oh!” Biro exclaimed. Ronon could hear her jumping to her feet and moving hastily to the cockpit. “Look at those cows on that dam. Isn’t that funny? Oh my! Those cows are acting really crazy, aren’t they?”

Ronon wanted to tell her that they were sick, that they were probably dying, that they’d eaten the same stuff that was poisoning Teyla, but his head hurt.

“Looks like they’re going to kick that dam apart if they don’t stop that dancing.” She tsked, saying, “Poor things. I think it’s a reaction to the poison, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, maybe,” the pilot, Miller, responded.

“We’ll come back and do a necropsy on that one at the landing site,” Biro said excitedly. “I wonder what it will tell us.” Ronon could tell she was smiling at the thought.

“Yeah, sure,” Miller sounded like he wasn’t as thrilled about the idea as Biro was, but then his voice rose a little, “Damn! Look at them! They’re going to break that wall apart if they don’t stop…”

Biro and Miller both gasped.

“What the hell?” Miller cried.

And Biro said, “Gosh!”

“Damn,” Miller uttered, his voice awed. “Never thought I’d see a thing like that.”

Tired, hurt and irritated with their talk, Ronon got off an irritated, “What?”

It took a long moment for him to receive a response. “Those cows,” Biros said as she returned to the rear of the jumper to hunch beside Teyla. “A bunch of them were up on that dam, and it just gave way.” She shook her head as she leaned over Teyla, checking her equipment. “It was really something to see. The dam fell apart. The water just gushed out of the lake. Those cows were swimming and kicking. Their legs were sticking up in the air! And everything moved so fast.”

“It was a dam break, sir,” Miller told him over his shoulder. "The dam just fell to pieces and the whole lake came busting out behind it. It’s flooding that entire valley.” He dipped his head a little and said, “Good thing we came to get you when we did otherwise… damn.”

“Yeah,” Ronon said closing his eyes again. “Damn.”

And then the darkness crowded in.

The last thing he heard was Miller saying, “And you can tell Dr. McKay that we found his Ancient outpost.”  
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888  
He was cold. He was so cold and the water kept rising. He was trapped underwater. He was in some sort of a cage, staring up at faces. He couldn’t reach the air. His lungs ached, his throat ached and he strained, trying to reach the surface.

Faces – John and Teyla and Ronon – looking down at him. They were shouting at him. He could see their mouths moving, but couldn’t hear them. He had to do something – they needed him to do something, but he couldn’t hear them and he was trapped beneath the water.

He was desperate to get to them, but the distance was too great, the spaces between the bars too tight. His lungs felt as if they were going to burst. There was so much water.

He was so cold, so cold his skull felt like it was going to implode.

He was going to suffocate, to drown. They kept shouting at him. He opened his mouth speak and water rushed in. Terrified, he tried to cough it out, only to breathe in the freezing water.

It burned. He choked, sucking in more water. Terrified, he fell – their faces fading as he dropped into the black depths as he clawed at the water.

“Hey!” The shouted word came at him through the dark and the depth and the cold.

“Hey!” the voice called again.

“Huh?” Rodney’s eyes shot open and he found himself shocked by the warm, dry brightness. “What?” He blinked, trying to clear the water and the cold from his brain. He coughed at the memory.

“Hey, McKay!” Sheppard said again.

Still pulling himself into the waking world, Rodney turned his head toward the colonel and muttered, trying to sound irritated, “I was sleeping.”

“Yeah, and now you’re awake,” Sheppard said smugly.

“I might have been having a beautiful dream.”

“Nope,” Sheppard told him. “I’m pretty sure that was a nightmare.”

Rodney gave John a steely look, but he deflated when he saw the concern in Sheppard’s gaze, and he looked away.

They were in the infirmary. Home… they’d made it home. He smiled a little with this realization. But what about the others?

He searched, finding Ronon in the bed across from him. The hulk was sitting, knees up, hunched forward. Noting that McKay was looking at him, he tipped his head slightly and met his gaze with bloodshot eyes. He grunted a greeting, and lowered his head again.

Teyla was in the bed across from Sheppard, hooked up to IV’s, curled up on her side, but looking remarkably better than the last time he’d seen her. She smiled a hello at him.

“Gang’s all here,” Sheppard stated.

Rodney relaxed into his pillow, whispering, “Thank God, thank God.” They’d all made it back. “We reached the Gate. We did it.”

“Yeah, we did,” Sheppard stated. “And you kinda freaked me out with the collapsing and the unconsciousness.” There was serious tone to his voice, almost an anger. “You could have told me that you were feeling so sick.”

“I’m pretty sure I mentioned it a time or two, and I was kinda busy hauling your ass to the Gate!” McKay snapped. “How long have I been out?”

“Fifteen hours,” Sheppard told him.

“Fifteen? Really? That’s a long time, isn’t it? I mean, even for me.”

“Yeah, a hell of a long time,” Sheppard told him. “Keller was worried, but she figured it out. That buffalo snot? Not really safe for humans once it gets mixed with that plant juice. Bad concoction. Has some sort of effect on the nervous system.”

McKay felt his heart race. “Is it… dangerous?”

“It killed all those beefaloes. Keller pumped you full of some sort of drug and said that it’ll take care of things,” Sheppard told him. “She said that it probably started off making you weak and dizzy, but would have progressed to something much worse. It’s some sort of toxin …”

“Toxin!”

“It’s fine,” Sheppard responded quickly. “Jennifer took care of it." He sighed, and cleared his throat before going on. “Rodney, it’s not like I’d like to break up the act, but you should have left me. You would have made it back faster. The jumper could have picked me up after they got Teyla and Ronon.”

Ronon made a rumbling sound, saying something about not having enough time.

McKay frowned at the garbled statement. “But they got a jumper there in time to get you, obviously,” he said to Ronon.

“Just,” Ronon mumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” McKay gibbered. “Teyla’s okay, isn’t she? Teyla?” He winced a little at the emotion that crept into his voice.

“I am going to be all right,” Teyla told him, snuggling into the covers, and she smiled again, looking curiously pleased.

“Apparently, that plant juice is mostly harmless to humans,” Sheppard told him.

“Mostly harmless,” Rodney repeated the phrase.

“Yeah, when taken in reasonable quantities,” John said and looked to Teyla. “Which she didn’t. And we all know what happens when you get too much of a good thing.”

“So, she’s going to be okay,” Rodney said watching Teyla.

“Now that Keller’s taken care of her, yes,” Sheppard said. “Mostly, it just gave her an upset stomach and made her want to sleep.”

“She’s still not looking so good,” Rodney declared, watching the Athosian who hid in her covers.

“I will be better,” she mumbled.

“Might take a while,” Sheppard said. “She swallowed a lot. Keller says it has properties kinda like aloe vera. Good for the skin. But this stuff wasn’t really meant for the insides.” John shrugged. “She should be feeling rather moisturized right now, inside and out."

“Mostly harmless toward humans, but deadly to squams?” Rodney asked, running a hand over his skin to test if he’d benefited from the aloe-vera treatment.

“Seems that way,” Sheppard responded. “The plant isn’t a native species. They must have been starving to eat it so ravenously. Keller explained it, but honestly, at the time the room was tilting, so it mostly went over my head.”

“Go figure,” McKay responded. “But because I got a dose of poisoned bison snot, I was poisoned too, meanwhile Teyla got off with a lovely skin treatment?”

Teyla made a face.

“So what was this man-eating plant thing, anyway?” McKay asked.

Sheppard nodded. “One of our botanists figured it out. What was it called, Teyla?”

She told him, “It is the quaise vine. It is native to the planet Wauwinet. On Wauwinet, it is consumed by their native creatures, the polpis. It does not harm them. Because of the polpis, the quaise vine grows only large enough to consume insects and small rodents. It is prized for this ability.”

“Ladies use the juice on their skin,” Ronon said without lifting his head.

“The natives brought this vine to that planet without knowing what it’d do if left unchecked,” Sheppard told him. “Didn’t find out what it might do to their stock. Maybe they tried it out on them, but gave up the planet when they found out that it'd kill their animals.”

“Idiots.” McKay looked to Teyla. “So, seriously, you’re feeling okay? Keller fixed you up? You still look kinda queasy.”

Teyla winced a little at the memory of being ‘fixed’, and then said, “I am very weak,” she admitted. “But I am well.”

“Weak? No, you’re stronger than a bull,” McKay said with a big grin.

Teyla didn’t look terribly pleased, and pulled her chin into her chest. The blankets fell closer to her shoulders.

McKay watched her lethargic movements with concern until Sheppard told him, “You should have seen her brighten up when Kanaan and the baby came by earlier. You’ll see. She’ll be feeling better in no time. Probably won’t want to have much to do with plants for a while though.”

“I hate plants,” Ronon grunted, resting his arms on his knees and letting his head hang.

Sheppard smiled a little. “You should have seen him brighten up when Lt. Cisco came by. He was all sunshine and smiles for her.”

Ronon gave him a glare what would melt ice.

“Ah,” Rodney responded. “Lt. Cisco with the Buffalo Bills paraphernalia in her room?” He shuddered. “Not sure if I’d want to be seeing any of that in the near future.” He stopped suddenly and looked startled. “Not that I’d be in Lt. Cisco’s room or anything.”

Ronon’s glare switched to Rodney.

Sheppard went on, trying to divert attention, “The big guy is going to have a headache for a while. He has several pretty impressive lacerations, a concussion, and cracked a couple ribs and bruised his chest pretty spectacularly. Didn’t Keller tell you to lie down and not stress your ribs?” Sheppard directed the last comment to Ronon.

Ronon grumbled, but didn’t change his position.

“He should learn how to stand out of the way of exploding doors,” McKay said with a small grin.

“And you should learn not to get trapped,” Ronon grumbled.

“That’s unfair!” McKay returned. “I wasn’t the one that set off the thing!” And he cast an eye on Sheppard. “And speaking of which,” he gestured with his good hand. “How’s the foot?”

Sheppard gazed at the splint. “It’s packed and immobilized until the swelling goes down. Keller yelled when she realized how far we’d walked.”

Rodney sighed, resting back against his pillows. “She's right. You shouldn’t have done that. Rational thing would have been for you to stay put – just stay with the others. Don’t know why you didn’t. Of course you and ‘rational’ don’t always go together.”

“Yeah, that would have made sense,” Sheppard said. “Certainly would have put less weight on you.”

“You are kinda heavy,” McKay told him, rubbing his shoulder with his good hand.

Sheppard grinned at the response and then added, “But, you know, with the way you were steering, you couldn’t have made it without me. You would have wandered off into the river or something,” Sheppard told him.

“That bison snot messed up my Nav system,” Rodney protested. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“Yeah, well, Keller’s pissed at you, too, so watch out,” Sheppard told him.

“Why? What did I do?” McKay asked incredulously, turning quickly to face Sheppard… and then he let out a hiss of pain as he felt the bitter soreness of his muscles and the spike of pain that ran through his left arm.

“See,” Sheppard said. “I got a gander at some of those bruises while they were messing with you. You're not as banged up as Ronon, but, it's not pretty.” There was that gravity in his tone as Sheppard tried to play off the words easily.

Rodney looked toward his arm, finding it splinted similarly to Sheppard’s foot. “What did she say about my arm?” He tried to sound casual. “I mean, will I be able to use it?”

“You’ll be joining me in surgery,” John told him. “She seemed fairly sure that it’ll be okay. Oh, and she yelled at me for not getting it in a sling.”

“Good,” Rodney responded.

“Of course, one good thing about the walk is that we got you warmed up. She only was a ‘little’ upset about the hypothermia. She wasn’t too pleased when she heard about the whole near drowning thing.”

Rodney closed his eyes as images of the tank room came back at him, as he felt the rising water again, the cold, the fear, the utter hopelessness of the situation. He gulped and blinked rapidly, remembering.

Sheppard was saying something, but Rodney didn’t hear him immediately, and when Sheppard shouted “HEY!” Rodney finally looked at him.

“You okay?” Sheppard asked. “Do you need Keller?”

“What was that room for anyway?” McKay asked, because he couldn’t stop picturing it. “Whoever came up with that tank should be locked up! It was a death trap!”

“Yeah,” Ronon muttered. “It’s for shimmo.”

Rodney furrowed his brow. “What’s that?”

“Shimmo,” Teyla explained, her voice quiet as she curled in her bed, “Is a specially prepared type of squam meat. It is believed that the most intense flavor is acquired by slaughtering the creatures in a specific manner.” And she let the idea hang for a moment.

It didn’t take the genius long. “They drowned the animals? Purposefully?” Rodney shook his head as he considered it. “Probably releases adrenaline or something into their bloodstream as the creatures struggle to get out. But they can’t get out. They can never get out!” He swallowed, feeling a tightness at this throat and the chill returning. “That sucks. The animals don’t deserve that! God, what a horrible way to die. I hate that place.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard said. “It was total suckage.”

Ronon grunted his agreement, and Teyla murmured her concurrence.

“And we accomplished nothing,” Rodney mourned. “After everything that happened to us, we ended up with nothing but our pains and the horrible, horrible nightmares that will undoubtedly plague us for years.” He grumbled and added, “I’m not going to be the one that tells Woolsey that we came back empty-handed.”

“Found the outpost,” Ronon suddenly voiced.

“What?” McKay responded. “Where?”

Ronon lifted his head. “In the lake.”

“In the lake?” McKay returned to looking at the ceiling. “Like, underwater? Has to be because there was no island! Great,” he muttered. “Of course. Back underwater. Just what I love.”

“Dam broke when I was on the jumper,” Ronon went on. “Those squams knocked it down.”

“Guess the dam break was pretty cool,” Sheppard said. “Miller saw it. He came by to gloat earlier,” Sheppard commented.

“Miller gets all the luck,” McKay groused.

“Biro too,” Ronon added.

“Great,” McKay grumbled. “How many chances does a guy get to see a real live dam break, and I missed it.”

“Stop your complaining,” Sheppard countered. “We all missed it.”

“Except Biro and Miller,” Ronon stated.

Sheppard shook his head. “Look, there’s no more lake. The outpost is in the open now. We can go check it out.”

“What the hell were those natives thinking?” Rodney said, annoyance in his voice. “Not only do they cruelly drown their livestock because they think it makes them tastier.” He shuddered a little with that statement. “And, they overgraze their crops and bring in a noxious replacement. Then, they dam up a river and don’t care that they’re submerging what may prove to be a highly important and interesting Ancient structure?”

“Ass-hats,” Sheppard declared.

“Total ass-hats,” McKay agreed.

“So, when do you want to go?” Sheppard asked leadingly.

“Are you high?” Rodney asked in disbelief. “We’ve been poisoned, drowned, smashed, slashed, trapped, frozen, broken, bruised, eaten, restrained, flung through the air, stampeded and over-moisturized! We’re not going anywhere for a while.”

Sheppard crooked a smile. “Okay, later then. No worries. The outpost will wait. It has to dry out anyways.” And he settled back in his bed, folding his arms under his head. Rodney watched the move jealously.

With an unhappy expression, McKay said, “Well, it’s going to take a while until we’re ready. Especially for you, with that… foot. Bet it’s pretty mangled. They’ll probably release me soon.” He smiled smugly. “You’re going to have to stay put.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard looked unhappy at that prospect. But his expression changed as he stated, “But you are all stuck here with me for a while, so I say, let’s make the best of the situation.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” McKay responded.

“We’ll just have to find a way to pass the time,” Sheppard said. “You know, a little togetherness is a good thing.” He smiled. “So, a man walks into a bar…”

Rodney groaned. Teyla shut her eyes, and Ronon mumbled, “I’ve heard one this before.”

Sheppard just grinned, and kept going.  
\--------------------  
THE END


End file.
